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JASON EDWARDS
fiamlin garland's BooKs.
Uniform edition. Each, izmo, cloth, $1.25.
Wayside Courtships*
Jason Edwards*
A Spoil of Office*
A Member of the Third House*
A Little Norsk* i6mo. 50 cents.
D. APPLETON & COMPANY, NEW YORK.
JASON EDWARDS
AN AVERAGE MAN
BY HAMLIN GARLAND
AUTHOR OF WAYSIDE COURT-
SHIPS, A SPOIL OF OFFICE, A
LITTLE NORSK, ETC. ::::::
NEW YORK
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
M DCCC XCVII
Copyright, 1897, by
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
Copyright, 1891, by Hamlin Garland
PS
JASON EDWARDS.
PAKT FIRST THE MECHANIC.
I.
THERE was a phrase which very com
pletely defined the character of Wal
ter Reeves. He was level-headed. He
faced the street, hideous with mud, and
tumultuous with the war of belated busi
ness, with a laughing face and steady
brown eyes, though the city impressed him
more than he expected it to do. Fresh
from college in an interior New England
town, where life moved quietly this rush
of men and teams over greasy, black cob
ble-stones deafened and bewildered him.
He stood a little while in the mouth of
the depot, a gloomy, castellated structure.
JASON EDWARDS.
His first thought was how to get a board
ing place. He set off at last, breasting
the stream of suburban people making
toward the trains. He was conscious of a
little feeling of pride in his appearance,
and was flattered by the pleasant glances
the young girls gave him as they passed in
their beautiful blue and wine-colored water
proof cloaks.
The boarding-house problem puzzled
him. Like the thrifty New England boy
he was, he couldn't think of going to a
hotel, so he fell into the slender stream of
people moving off into the heart of the
city. This brought him inevitably to the
Common, which he had visited once on a
Fourth of July excursion.
It was growing dark now, and the rain
was falling steadily. The November wind
had a wild and lonesome sound in the
branches over his head but he only heard
that when the heavy gusts came. The
ceaseless tramp of hooves and the grinding
roar of the cars deafened and clouded his
brain.
He kept on down the plank walk till
JASON EDWARDS.
he came to the end of the Common. He
paused and considered. A fat, very red-
haired policeman was standing in the mid
dle of the intersecting streets directing the
streams of impatient drivers and sheltering
timid ladies across the way under his chev-
roned arm.
Walter had always been told that the
only safe person to ask a question of on
the street was a policeman, so he stood an
instant by the side of the gesticulating
giant, and asked for a good, cheap boarding-
house.
"F'r Gawd's sake!" growled the stupe
fied officer, looking down into Reeves' face.
"Where you born? H'yar! What 're
y' doin' there? G'wan!" he shouted to a
hackman who was cutting in ahead of a
car. He then remembered Reeves. "Any
where. De whole town is full of 'urn" he
threw out his arm toward the left "Git
a move on ye there!"
Walter crossed the street and moved in
the direction indicated by the policeman.
It was a noisy and crowded street, and he
turned off instinctively upon one of the
JASON EDWARDS.
side streets. Cards saying "Rooms" were
in the basement windows here and there,
and occasionally "Board and Rooms". He
rang the bell of one of the latter places and
a tall and handsome woman came to the
door.
"I'd like to get board here," he said,
looking up at her. She studied him as
was her need. She liked him.
" Very well. Won't you come in ? " She
prided herself on being a judge of faces.
He set as the limit of his board bill five
dollars per week, and was delighted when
he found he could get board and room for
four dollars and seventy-five cents. He set
his valise down on the floor after the land
lady had gone, and surveyed his "Hall
room, one flight". It was exactly six feet
by twelve, the little cot-bed occupied half
the width, and a little table and wash-
stand filled in the chinks. However, it
was all new and strange and delightful.
It had some of the effect of camping in
the woods.
He lay down on the bed and planned his
campaign. He had always looked for-
JASON EDWARDS.
ward to doing newspaper work, and he
had long had his eyes fixed on the Events,
as the paper he would like best to be con
nected with. He determined to call upon
the editor of the Events first. He had a
note of introduction. It was from his
teacher, who had spent a couple of weeks
with the editor at a Summer hotel.
He found him with head immersed in a
roll-top desk like an ox in a manger of
hay. He was a kindly man naturally, but
he was worn and pre-occupied.
"Sit down si' down!" he said, but as
the only chair beside his was piled with
papers, Walter remained standing.
The editor read the note in a flash, and
took his pen down from behind his ear
and began correcting manuscript as he
replied
"Glad to see you, Mr. Reeves. You
might see our Mr. Daggett I'm afraid
it won't do any good but something's
turning up almost every day, and" he
forgot to finish, and Reeves went out.
He stood out in the counting-room a long
time and looked up along the line of clerks.
6 JASON EDWARDS.
"Where'll I find Mr. Daggett?"
"First window right," said the youth
without looking up. He had the tone of
a clerk who had little to do and didn't
care to do that.
"I'd like to see Mr. Daggett," Reeves
asked at the next window.
"Four flights," was the reply of clerk
No. 2 in the same tone.
Walter was getting angry. He climbed
the four flights and came into a long room
with a row of stalls on the right-hand side,
a window to each stall. A tall old man
with his hands full of strips of printed
matter was coming out of the second stall.
"I'd like to see Mr. Daggett."
"Eight here, sir."
A grizzled man with a very ragged coat
and a shade over his eyes looked up. His
very glance was a staccato question.
Walter made his request.
"Got mor'n we can use now. I wish
Miller'd stop this thing. There's no place
for you here."
"Exactly," said Walter, who was just net
tled enough to be on his dignity. "Knew
JASON EDWARDS.
you'd say just that. Now I want you to
look at me hard so you'll know me
again."
Daggett looked at him in astonishment,
his grey eyes getting big and round.
"What the devil do I care how you
look?"
" Because I may be sitting in your place
before five years are up. Here's my card.
I'm green, but I ain't a salad."
Daggett laughed. "Well, young man,
you've got cheek, if nothing more. Go
ahead, let's see what you can do.
Thus dismissed, Reeves went down the
long stairs a little hot, but with the determ
ination to fulfill his word now, at any cost.
He w T as not entirely unfamiliar with the
needs of a newspaper, and so as he sat in
his little hall bedroom that night, he laid
out his plan.
"The first thing a reporter wants to do
is to know the town. I'll simply get this
whole city mapped out in my head like a
cabbage field. The reporter's business is to
get the news and what the paper wants
is the news, and news they'll have. I'll
JASON EDWARDS.
send in something every day, or break my
neck tryin', that's all. They won't pay
for it, but that's nothing they will one o'
these days."
So he set to work to ransack the city.
He first studied the streets. A hack driver
gave him a clue to the labyrinth.
"Now here's Washington Street see?
Well, dat's de backbone o' de hull blame
town see? An' Tre-mont is jist like it.
Now w'en you start out to look f'r anny
place, jist figger out whedder it's on de
hind-leg 'r de shoulder see?"
Reeves saw. This luminous description
of Boston's anatomy was worth more as a
starter than any map. He soon knew
every principal street. Next he studied
the districts of the city. He found that
the West End held most colored people,
the North End most Italians, the South
End most Irish, Harrison Avenue most
Chinese. He studied the wharves till the
longshoremen wondered at him. He dis
covered a great deal about sailors, one
thing being that they never talked in
nautical metaphors.
JASON EDWARDS. 9
He dressed in plain, thick gray clothes,
suitable for any place or any weather, and
looked like a grocer's collection man
all save his pleasant face and peculiar,
keen laughing eyes. He went everywhere
and saw everything from "London Bridge"
to the Symphony Circuit.
Everybody liked him. The policemen
in certain quarters grew to nod and grin
as he passed along. He told everybody
frankly that he was going for the Events,
was after a position.
One day he looked in on Daggett and
said
"Hello! Used my little < story' of the
row up in Italy, didn't yeh? I'll send in
my bill one o' these days."
Daggett gave him one brief glance.
"You'll own the paper yet."
"I certainly will."
"You certainly will if cheek counts,"
growled the editor. He put his head out
of the stall, twenty minutes later, and
moralized for the benefit of the other
stalls.
"Damned if it ain't pathetic to see a
10 JASON EDWARDS.
bright young fellah come down here like
that to conquer the city. We all did it
and failed most of us. And he'll fail.
He's a bright fellow, but nine hundred and
ninety-nine out of a thousand, fail. If
youth only knew what was before it, it
would commit suicide, or words to that
effect. But it don't. It plunges along,
down every night, up every morning I
swear it's tragic."
There was a dead silence. Then a voice
said, "Say, Daggett, moralize after two
o'clock, won't you?"
As a matter of fact, before the winter
was over Walter was put on the list at a
small salary.
" Just for your cursed impudence," Dag
gett said with a grin.
"All right," chirped Reeves " the same
kind of steam has got to bring me twenty
dollars see ?" He ended with the inflec
tion of the street.
"Devilish clever lad," said Daggett to
the military editor. "They tell me he
knows the city like his primer. I'll keep
an eye on him. The 'old man' must
JASON EDWARDS. 11
know of the young fellow. He'll make
his mark, if he don't get to living too
fast."
"No danger o' that."
"Why so?"
"He don't drink n'r smoke."
"Phew! You don't mean it! By jinks,
he's a sort of phenomenon. Does he
write well?"
"M tolerably. A little inclined to
soar you understand ' silver-lining '
6 along our pathway' and the like o' that
but nothing organic, so to say. He can be
cured."
"We'll use that young felleh," said
Daggett.
And use him they did. They unloaded
all sorts of jobs upon him, but he said noth
ing, for it was opportunity to show what
was in him that he wanted most of all.
He did twenty-dollar jobs for ten, and did
his best. He asked to be assigned to dif
ferent work. Now to the lectures and
theatres, now to the private musical-elo-
cutionals, and he did some political inter
viewing in short, he worked and studied
12 JASON EDWARDS.
to round himself, to give himself thorough
information in the city's life.
He made friends and kept them, and
made mainly good ones, for the men who
might have been harmful to a weaker man
were of use to him. He studied them
closely as facts. He soon knew young
men of good families, and he began to go
out a good deal at the end of a couple of
years. As his salary increased he lived
better in proportion, surrounding himself
with books and pictures.
His room became the meeting place for
the more ambitious young newspaper fel
lows, and Daggett came around once in a
while to growl away in a monotone, in
his interesting way. The young fellows
thought it quite an honor.
Life went on amazingly well for him.
At the end of his fifth year in Boston, he
was the "Dramatic Editor" on the Events
at a good salary. He was a man of large
acquaintance, and a universal belief in his
future was expressed by Daggett, " He's a
born newspaper man. If nothing happens
to him, he'll get too big for Boston."
JASON EDWARDS. 13
"What do you think may happen to
him?"
" Settle down into a daily grind like you
and I," said Daggett with an unusual
depth of feeling in his voice. Already he
began to humble himself in the face of
triumphant youth.
14 JASON EDWARDS.
II.
ONE April day in his fifth year in Bos
ton he had been in the public libra
ry studying up for a special article in a
magazine, and stood at the door looking
out at the people streaming by. The pent-
up river of traffic in Boylston street ground
and thundered by him unnoticed. He was
thinking of his mountain birth-place the
unusual blue of the sky brought it all back
to him. He felt tired and worn with the
city, and was planning a long vacation
home when a girl passed!
Thousands had passed him, myriads of
smiling girls and splendid women but
the mysterious had happened. The great,
wistful eyes, the pre-occupied, unseeing
expression of the girl's face, and the grace
of her step, stopped him as if an invisible
hand had been placed upon his heart. He
JASON EDWARDS. 15
marvelled at this astounding psycholog
ical effect, even while his breath quick
ened. With a feeling almost of pain, he
stood irresolute, and watched her disappear
among the unimpersonal thousands of the
street.
" If I were a mediaeval Romeo instead of
a jaded critic of stage Romeos I'd spring
to that woman's side and ask her name
and residence." Ten minutes before he
wouldn't have owned that any face in the
world could have moved him so. For a
month he carried that picture in his mind.
He pondered on it. She was poor, that
was evident. She wore no gloves, and her
dress was very simple. His reportorial
eye had noted every detail. Her hat was
graceful, but cheap, and she had a roll of
music, probably she was a teacher of music
somewhere in the city. He haunted the
library at that same hour day after day till
he grew ashamed and furtive in action, all
to no purpose. But as the weeks wore on
the sense of personal loss grew less keen,
and was felt only when he sat in his room
at night, writing or dreaming at his desk.
16 JASON EDWARDS.
He was thinking of that face one even
ing in June, when Jerome Austin, an artist
friend, came into his room, in his impetu
ous way and sprawled out like a lobster on
the couch.
" What's on with you to-night, old man ?"
"Well, I'd looked forward to a rather
quiet time of it."
" Oh, bother ! Come out with me. I've
a friend (one of the penalties of having
friends), a girl graduate at the Conserva
tory, who's going to display her voice and
gown to-night. There'll be pretty girls till
you can't rest, and they'll elocute and
cutely yell "
"Oh, horrible!" groaned Reeves.
"I know! It's the state I'm in. If you
come, I'll introduce you to a lot of girls
delicious as peaches and cream."
Austin was always a study to Reeves,
and never more so than that night. As
they sat to watch the exercises of the even
ing, he bubbled over with an innocent
sort of ribaldry.
The beautiful little hall was like a huge
bouquet of flowers, especially the gallery,
JASON EDWARDS. 17
where the seats were entirely filled with
the girls of the Conservatory girls with
brown eyes, girls with blue eyes, girls
with hair cut short and curling gracefully
around their heads, girls with bushy hair
(very masculine and strong), girls of all
sorts, save dull girls. These ambitious
little creatures, with their hopes and fears,
made the more thoughtful Reeves ponder
deeply. So bright, so eager, so resolute,
what will life be to them ten years hence?
Happy, they think. Full of increasing
care, Reeves knew. But Austin kept on
irrepressibly, a sort of chorus through the
performance.
" Now you'll hear some dear little creat
ure no, we have a whole row ah! I
see! A fan drill. Very good! Arms
and necks and heads and pretty white-
slippered toes that one on the right is
my friend. She mustn't see me. She'd
laugh. Now see our heads wag! Now
we'll display our wrists. Ta-ta, turn-turn.
See the one on the left ain't she a
daisy?"
Reeves was looking at the audience,
18 JASON EDWARDS.
when Austin said, "Ah! Now we'll have
a song!" And he turned just in time to
see a girl slip from the wing and bow to
the audience. It was his wild bird of the
street! Her flushed face and eager eyes,
her slender figure, dressed in white or
pink, was glorified with a sort of woman's
pride mixed with an anticipation of tri
umph, as if she felt in advance the
applause which really burst forth when
she had finished her simple little song,
"Errinnerung," by Brahms.
Austin commented self-containedly :
"Voice fair. Good feeling but what
eyes? Did you notice those eye-lashes?
They'd make a fortune for an actress.
Eh?"
"A very pretty girl," said Reeves, tak
ing refuge in a conventional tone and
phrase.
" Pretty ! Say, I thought you had some
judgment. That girl's spicy as a June
meadow. Hang it, man! I wouldn't be a
reporter for money. There's character in
her face. How I'd like to paint her? I
must get an introduction."
JASON EDWARDS. 19
"Take me along, too?" asked Reeves
indifferently lie congratulated himself.
"Oh, yes, certainly that is I'm sorry
to be obliged to. That moustache of yours
is such a killing curl, and mine bristles
like a nail-brush. I must paste it down
some way."
And it was in this way that Reeves met
her. She was standing in the midst of a
bevy of girls, her eyes already far off, a
faint smile on her lips.
"Allie, dear, let me present my friend,
Mr. Austin, and his friend, Mr. Reeves.
Miss Edwards, Mr. Reeves is a horrid
editor, and we must treat him well, or
he'll pounce on us. I'll bribe him with
a rose," she said, detaching one from her
bouquet.
"I have nothing but praise to say of
your work, Miss Edwards," Reeves said a
few moments later as Miss Caswell turned
away with Austin. "You are nearly done
here, I take it."
"Oh, no. I'm only half-way. I gradu
ate next year, but I hope to take a post
graduate course."
20 JASON EDWARDS.
"You're ambitious to sing on the plat
form, I suppose?"
"Yes, I must earn money, and there is
more money to be made that way."
"You are very frank to say you're to
sing for money. It's common to say, 'I
love art for art's sake'."
" That is very well for those who have
little need of money, but I must earn
money. I need it, and my parents need
it. Do you think I can succeed?" she
asked eagerly.
"I do, indeed."
A little girl of eight or thereabouts,
pulled at her dress, looking shyly at
Reeves.
"Allie, papa's waitin'."
" I must go now. I'm very grateful for
your kind encouragement."
"I am always glad to speak such words
when I can do so honestly, as I can in your
case. Won't you please let me know when
you are to sing again? I want to hear
you and, pardon me, may I call to see
you? I may be able to advise you."
"You are very kind, Mr. Reeves/' she
JASON EDWARDS. 21
replied with a shadow on her face. "I
fear our home is too poor rny father is a
mechanic."
"Mine was a farmer/' he said with a
smile. "We haven't got quite to the point
of despising honest labor."
"We live at 700 Pleasant Avenue.
Father will be pleased to know you."
Reeves chafed at the formal words and
tones he was forced to use while looking
down into that sensitive face and those
clear eyes. He followed them out into the
hall, and saw them greet a middle-aged
man with short, grey beard, who did not
smile as he met his daughter, and did not
speak of her singing.
Jason Edwards had that peculiar reserve
upon all points of tenderness and affection
so characteristic of the New Englander.
He merely said, "Who was the man that
came out behind you, Allie the one with
the brown moustache? I've seen him
before."
"His name is Reeves, father. He liked
my song very much."
"Well, I should think he might."
22 JASON EDWARDS.
"Didn't she look lovely, poppa?"
"Sh don't talk so loud, Linnie. Peo
ple will hear you."
"I don't care she was just lovely."
Alice was thinking of that eager look in
Reeve's eyes, of the little vibrant under
tone in his voice, as he asked permission
to call. She was almost frightened at the
idea. This editor of a great paper for
she had no very clear idea of an editor
so big and handsome Was he handsome ?
"Yes, he was handsome," she decided. His
clear brown eyes and his brown moustache,
his brown hair brushed up from his face,
and his fair complexion, rose before her as
something fine, honest and manly.
She turned to her father. He had taken
her by the wrist with his poor calloused
hands, cracked and knotted, and grimed
with a half -century's toil.
"Oh, father, if my voice could only give
you rest from your work ! "
In that cry was her life and aim and res
olution. If Reeves could have heard it, it
would have added another distracting train
of thought to those which kept him awake
JASON EDWARDS. 23
till twelve o'clock that night in his rooms
on Columbus Avenue.
Often before he had been attracted by
women, had even felt moved to win them,
but on nearer approach had found them
only good friends at best. Would this
girl continue to grow in interest ? " If she
does to any considerable extent," he said
to himself, " I'm of no particular value to
myself without her."
"But to think of that beautiful, reso
lute, pure soul, full of music and exalta
tion, living on Pleasant Avenue," and
while puzzling upon this, and planning
just what to say to her when he should
call, he fell asleep.
Life was not the same to him when he
woke the next morning. He leaped out of
bed half an hour earlier to do some special
work, and as he moved about, he sang so
merrily that the lodger above pounded
warningly on the floor with his shoe-heel.
24 JASON EDWARDS.
III.
IT was about five o'clock of a stifling hot
day on Pleasant Avenue. Ironically
bitter, the name of the street seemed
now, like many another old-time name in
Boston.
The sun had gone out of it, but the
heat still pulsed from the pavements and
breathed from the doors and open windows
of the four-story brick and wooden build
ings, rising like solid walls on each side of
the stream of human life which filled the
crevasse with its slow motion.
Children, ragged, dirty, half-naked and
ferocious, swarmed up and down the fur
nace-like street, swore and screamed in
high-pitched, unnatural, animal-like voices,
from which all childish music was lost.
Frowzy women walking with a gait of
utter weariness, aged women, bent and
JASON EDWARDS. 25
withered, and young women soon to bring
other mouths and tongues and hands into
this frightful struggle, straggled along the
side-walks, laden with parcels, pitifully
small, filled with food.
Other women and old people leaned
from the open windows to get a breath of
cooler air, frowns of pain on their faces,
while in narrow rooms foul and crowded,
invalids tortured by the deafening screams
of the children, and the thunder of passing
teams and cars, and unable to reach the
window to escape the suffocating heat and
smell of the cooking, turned to the wall,
dumbly praying for death to end their
suffering.
If a young soul from the quiet of sub
urban life, or a visitor from the country,
had found himself in the midst of these
streets and these people, he would have
trembled with fear and horror. It would
have seemed to him like a hideous dream
of hell, but the postman, making his last
round, whistled as he threaded his way
amidst the obstructions of the pavements
whistled and swore good-naturedly, as
26 JASON EDWARDS.
the eager children crowded upon him. He
walked briskly and with alert and pleasant
eyes, his bag on his left shoulder, his left
hand filled with badly written letters.
Through this street, moving toward its
better quarters, Alice Edwards and Reeves
were making their way slowly, oppressed
by the heat and impeded by the riotous
play of the children and the grimy babes
rolling on the pavements before the doors.
They both moved forward with an air
which plainly showed they were, like the
postman, accustomed to see this. They
saw it but saw it as one of the inevitable
conditions. The children knew them, and
many spoke to them familiarly, but not
saucily.
"Hello, Mr. Reeves!"
"Hello, Alice!"
"That your sweetheart?"
" You dry up ! He'll put you into the
paper," said a woman with the usual shawl
thrown over her head, in spite of the heat
(a relic of barbarism in dress) .
Alice was dressed in white, such as she
usually wore when singing, and she looked
JASON EDWARDS. 27
like a lost wild dove dropped into this hor
rible crevasse ; and in her eyes there was a
look of sorrowful wisdom which showed
she was not unacquainted with vice and
misery, though untainted by it.
They walked in silence mainly, save as
they greeted the people they met. Reeves
looked, as usual, shrewd and kindly, but
under his drooping moustache there was
the line of his lips to tell how much he felt
the pity of all this degradation. He was a
stalwart figure, and set off well the slender
woman beside him. He was dressed, as
usual, with uncommon care, wearing the
conventional Prince Albert coat, but reliev
ing himself a little of the discomfort by
leaving it unbuttoned.
"This dodging the babes on the pave
ment makes me think of walking in the
country after a rain-storm, when the toads
are thick. In the thousands of the city,
these little mites of humanity have no
more significance than toads. They lie
here, squat in the way uncared for, and
unlovely. What a childhood to look back
upon."
28 JASON EDWARDS.
They turned in at last at one of the
cave-like apertures opening upon the nar
row walk, and passed into a hall which led
straight through to the foul-smelling yard
and alley behind.
There were two families on each floor,
and as the doors were open, the smells of
cooking food were mingled into an inde
scribable hot stench boiled beef, onions,
cabbage, fried pork and the smell of vile
coffee. Babies were squaling, loud-voiced
women, worried with their cares and bad-
tempered from weariness, were scolding
and slapping the children who ran in and
out with a prodigious clatter, and shrieking
and squalling.
Reeves and Alice looked into each oth
er's faces with a significant glance, and
mounted the stairs, dodging the children
that were sliding down the banister and
leaping across the landing.
"Did you ever notice how little heat
affects children, Alice?" inquired Reeves,
as they paused at the top stair.
"They are like salamanders. See their
wonderful activity in spite of the heat."
JASON EDWARDS. 29
"Please consider me a martyr to beauty/'
he said, as he took off his hat and flung
back his coat. "I'll wear my straw hat
and light suit next time, if it spoils my
chances for the presidency."
Alice smiled. " I didn't ask you to wear
that."
Reeves caught a grinning boy by the
shoulder, as he was trying to slip past him.
" See here, Patsy, did you leave that bana
na-skin on the stairs ? I nearly broke my
neck last Wednesday," he exclaimed to
Alice.
The room they entered was the usual
living-room of the average mechanic,
except that it had a carpet and piano, as
if it laid claim to the name of parlor. But
the table, partly spread for supper, told
that it was also the dining-room. The
furniture was of very humble sort, and was
a peculiar mixture of old-fashioned pieces
and bargains at the shoddy furniture-rooms
of the city.
The carpet on the floor was bright-
colored. The curtains were very neat and
clean, and the whole effect was of tasteful
30 JASON EDWARDS.
economy, but not comfort. The windows
of the side, the only windows, looked out
upon another similar tenement, across a
narrow side street, along which boomed
and thundered passing teams loaded with
heavy plates of iron, or with immense flap
ping loads of lumber. Venders of fruit
were crying loudly and unmusically. It
was very close and unwholesome, and
Reeves drew a sigh of pain as he glanced
about the room as Alice sat down on the
piano stool in a meditative position.
A little girl peeped in at the door and
then ran away, and Mrs. Edwards, a gray-
haired woman with a tired, patient face,
came to the door which led into the kitchen
and closed it softly, leaving the two young
people alone, while she suffered a martyr
dom of heat within the small cooking
room.
It was a strange place for a wooing, one
would say. From the street foul odors
and the boom of travel. Overhead some
one was tramping heavily. In the hall
the children fought and screamed, and
clattered up and down the stairs. That
JASON EDWARDS. 31
they could sit and talk with such sur
roundings was sorrowful evidence that it
was habitual, and to some degree unnoticed.
Reeves also sank into a chair with a
sigh, and said, "Another recital like that
would lay me out in the morgue. That
tall girl that punished Schumann well,
let that pass and let's come back to the
subject in hand. That's all you'll prom
ise me, is it?" he said, in a tone that
implied he had returned to an interrupted
conversation.
"Yes," answered Alice gravely.
"To marry me some time."
"Yes ain't that enough?" A hint of
a smile.
"'No, it's too indefinite. Enough to
a man who wants you and the earth! I
begin to see there is a radical difference
between men and women at least,
between you and me. Now just think
how indefinite that is some time! Why
not put a limit and bound to it ? Why not
say next Fourth of July?"
She laughed, but shook her head.
" Well, say Thanksgiving Christmas
32 JASON EDWARDS.
Ah! now I'm getting at it! It seems
now I'm going to make a tremendous sac
rifice come now, say a year from to-day."
Alice spoke slowly, with a faint smile on
her lips, her eyes cast down.
"Well, I'll think of it."
"What's that?"
"I said I'd think of it."
"Alice, you can be exasperating on
occasion. To think of the sermons and
graduating exercises I've endured, to hear
you sing! To think of the lemonade and
ice-cream"
"Walter!"
"All this haf I endured mit a patient
shrug," acted Reeves, turning out his palms.
"All the year, only to be told to wait
another year," he groaned.
"How can you make light of it?" said
Alice, severely, looking up at him.
"Light of it!" cried he in astonishment.
"Do I act like a man making light of it ?"
He rose and paced once across the room,
and said gravely, "Alice, this is absurd.
Look at it from my stand-point a moment.
Here I am, good salary land a little
JASON EDWARDS. 33
railway stock my eye on a dove of a
cottage in Meadow View Queen Anne
piazza"
" I know, but"
"But what?"
"Why I'm happy now"
"Well, I ain't."
"That is," she hastened to explain, "I
have my music, and I have father and
mother and Linnie why can't you be
patient?"
"I am. Job ain't a circumstance to me."
"Let me study another year"
"Can't think of it!"
"I love my music. I want to do some
thing in that. I want to earn my own liv
ing I must help my people"
"All I have is theirs," said Reeves
solemnly.
"No, it ain't," she cried firmly. "I want
money, all my own that's what I've stud
ied for, and I can't be dependent."
"Oh, these modern women!" groaned
Reeves.
"You got your place by your own
work/' she continued in the same tone,
34 JASON EDWARDS.
"and I want to show how much I can
do"
" You mean how little."
"I mean how much/' she repeated, with
a touch of silencing indignation. "I'm
proud of you because you've got where you
have, hy your own merit. Now let me see
if I can't do for myself and my parents
what"
" Nonsense ! I can do work enough for
two. I don't want you to work."
"I know you don't, Walter, but"
"But what?"
" I want to work. Don't you see ? I'm
happier in my work. Let me have my
freedom another"
"Freedom!" cried Reeves in vast aston
ishment. "Well, now that heads me off!
As if you couldn't do as you please after
marrying me."
The girl, finding herself driven to give
an explanation which was impossible,
changed her method of attack.
"You called me the modern woman?"
" Yes, for lack of a better characteriza
tion/' he replied.
JASON EDWARDS. 35
"Well," she laughed mockingly, "the
modern woman doesn't marry young."
"The modern woman had better look
out, or she'll get out of the habit and not
marry at all," grumbled Eeeves. Then
changing his mode of attack, he rose and
closed the door, and returning took his
chair over toward her, and seated himself
facing her.
"Say, Alice, do you know I'm getting
old fast? I'm getting too near thirty.
See the gray hairs on my head, eh?"
Alice put out her hand and pushed her
fingers up through his thick hair a
caressing movement.
"Gray! There isn't a gray hair in it
and if there was" she hesitated.
" Out with it."
"It would be due to"
"Dissipation, eh?"
"I didn't say that."
"No, but you meant it."
"I didn't I meant"
"Now don't try to switch off on Back
Bay parties and five o'clock teas. It's due
to the suffering incident to going to church
36 JASON EDWARDS.
and to recitals to hear you sing one poor
little hymn"
"Do you good," she laughed. "You
wouldn't go to church at all otherwise."
" By the way, I heard Mrs. Hoi way was
thinking of taking you up."
"I'm not going to be taken up by any
such person," said Alice, "She's a coarse,
ignorant woman. She asked me to-day if
Wa-agner wasn't French ! "
" She's pretty dense, that's a fact. About
the worst Philistines I know are the peo
ple who think all the rest of the world are
Philistines."
They were silent a moment, Alice stand
ing with her hand on his shoulder.
"But to return to the discussion," began
Reeves, after a few moments.
Alice withdrew her hand and began tak
ing off her hat.
"I won't argue any more with you.
Now you sit down and keep still while I
help mother."
"But I"
Alice hummed a little tune, and then
turning, asked innocently
JASON EDWARDS. 37
"What were you about saying?"
"I'll go home and write a ferocious edi
torial on the modern woman attacking
the whole theory"
"Do, and I'll add another year to your
probation," said Alice sweetly. "I must
teach you patience, or you'll be a tyrant."
Reeves groaned in mock despair. "Oh,
that I were born so late ! Oh, for the soft
and yielding females of romance! They
did nothing but faint in their lovers'
arms but these modern women"
Alice seated herself at the piano and
touched a few chords. Mrs. Edwards
opened the door softly, but seeing Reeves
step to Alice's side and put his hand
on her shoulder, she discreetly withdrew
again to her direful hot-box.
Alice, feeling the hand of her lover,
ceased to play, and looked up to see a new
expression on his face.
"Lovers always enjoy telling each other
what they thought and felt the first time
they saw each other"
"Well, go on," smiled the girl.
"I never could say just what I felt
38 JASON EDWARDS.
when I saw you, but to-day I clipped a
poem that comes as near to it as any
words can.
"Oh, read it to me do!" pleaded
Alice.
"How do you know it will please
you?"
"I don't."
" Yes, you do, or you wouldn't ask for
it."
He stood now looking down at her,
seated by the piano, her hands in her lap,
her eyes upturned while Keeves read
" She passed me on the street
And saw me not ! . . . .
As some sweet singer, safe
Near its swaying nest
Beside some half-hid stream
Far in the wooded west,
With pure, untroubled, child-like eyes,
She walked in happy dream,
Of her own wonder and surprise.
" Knowing not vice nor hunger's ways ;
In girlhood's pure and wistful thought,
She passed me but I caught
The glorious beauty of her face !
JASON EDWARDS. 39
Beneath her garments perfume-fraught
She moved with such a splendid grace,
I knew a strain of music passed
Her buoyant stepping held me fast ! "
As Keeves read this, Alice took the hand
which was on her shoulder, and laid her
cheek upon it. The tears came in her
eyes, and when he had finished, she said in
a low voice
" Oh, I wish I were worthy that poem."
"You are worthy it," said Reeves tend
erly, locking his hands under her chin, and
kissing her upturned face."
"Oh, no. It is an ideal it is not me."
"But you see that's what you are the
<not-me'."
A knock on the door brought a grimace
to his face, and Alice, rising, said, "Come
in." A large and flabby Irish woman
entered, and seeing Reeves and Alice alone,
professed the most voluble contrition.
"Bad luuk to the sowl av me! It's a
bloody thief I am to come stalin' in but
Murtagh'll be home sune, an' it's a cu-up o'
tay he'll be nadin' ? An' is Mrs. Edwards
in?"
40 JASON EDWARDS.
Mrs. Edwards hearing the high-pitched
voice of her neighbor, who "borrowed
things", came in, greeting Mr. Reeves in
her placid way, in the midst of the never-
ending clatter of Mrs. Murtagh's tongue.
"Wull you loan me the lavin' o' tay,
Mrs. Edwards? I have a cu-up."
Mrs. Edwards took the cup with an air
of long-suffering patience, and returned to
the kitchen.
"It's the warst I cud do, to be disturbin'
two swatehaarts sittin' like du-uves in a
nist"
"There, there, Mrs. Murtagh," said Alice.
"Never mind you didn't mean"
"Mane, t is it? How cud I knaw, an' the
dure an inch thick, and the babby a squall-
in' like murther?"
"Never mind that, madam," said Reeves,
trying his hand at staying the torrent.
"D'ye hear that now? Madam, sez he!
Good luuk to ye f'r that! "
Reeves resorted to stratagem. Going
over to the door, he said, " I think I hear
Teddy fighting again."
"Fightin' is he? Mother o' God! That
JASON EDWARDS. 41
bye's the divil himself. Good luuk to ye,
darlint ! It's dancin' at y'r weddin' I'll be
doin' till ye'll think it's bechune sixteen
an' twinty I am." And with much palaver
she thanked Mrs. Edwards and withdrew
with the cup of tea.
" Heavens and earth ! What a scourge ! "
said Reeves with a sigh.
"Oh, she isn't bad. She has a good
heart. But there are people in our block
that are dreadful. And it is so hard to
escape them in the crowded city.
Reeves shuddered, and said with a ten
der cadence in his voice, "My poor little
girl. Let me take you out of this."
"And leave my parents in it?" she
asked in a tone which stopped his mouth.
His face darkened over the problem. He
dared not push the matter further.
"Well, I must be going back to the
office. I'm expected to do an anti-poverty
lecture to-night."
"What kind of a lecture?"
"Why, this abolition of poverty idea,
started by Henry George perfectly absurd
idea." Alice looked thoughtful.
42 JASON EDWARDS.
"I wish the idea wasn't so absurd. I
don't understand why poverty should be
so persistent in the world. Do you?"
Eeeves was profoundly touched by her
words and manner. He hesitated and
finally said, "Come to think of it, it is
more absurd to think the abolishing of
poverty absurd. Some way I haven't yet
seen where the laugh comes in. I've been
thinking a good deal on these social ques
tions lately, and writing a good deal in a
way." He mused again for a moment,
his eyes on the floor, his hat in his hand.
He took another bit of paper from his
pocket.
"The air is full of revolt against things
as they are. I don't know why, some
thing has brought them up. Here's some
thing I wrote while standing on Brooklyn
Bridge the other day, looking down on
New York. 'Over me surged and swung
those giant cables, etched against the sky,
delicate as cobwebs. Under my feet that
marvel of man, the bridge itself. I stood
there, looking down on that lava-like flood
of bricks and mortar called New York,
JASON EDWARDS. 43
cracked and seamed and piled into hideous
forms, without grace or charm. I saw
men rushing to and fro there in those
gloomy scenes, like ants in the scoria of
a volcano. I saw pale women sewing in
dens reeking with pestilence and throbbing
with heat. I saw myriads of homes where
the children could play only on the roof
or in the street. Whole colonies of hope
less settlers, sixty feet from the pavement.
And I said, man has invented a thousand
new ways of producing wealth, but not
one for properly distributing it. I don't
understand the problem, but it must be
solved. Somebody will solve it." 3
He crumpled the paper away in his
pocket. "Well, don't mind my firing an
editorial at you, will you?" He held out
his hand.
" Good-by, my liege lady," he said in
mock homage, kissing her fingers. Alice
smiled faintly at his playfulness, and after
he had gone out, turned to her mother
wearily.
" And he feels it, too. Oh, isn't it ter
rible to be poor, mother?"
44 JASON EDWARDS.
"Yes, Allie," said Mrs. Edwards with
quiet pathos; "but I've got used to it I
don't expect anything else now I don't
care s' much f'r myself, but I do want to
see my children saved from it."
"Oh, how sweet it must be to be free
from the fears of poverty," cried the girl.
"To feel that you don't need to scrimp and
pinch, and turn dresses, and dye feathers,
and wear old shoes, and pinch every cent
you have. I wonder how it would seem
to feel that food would come when you
needed it. And then to be free to study.
Oh, that would be heaven ! "
Mrs. Edwards was moving about the
room with that mechanical persistency the
never-resting laborer acquires. The impas
sioned girl saw this at last, and rising,
approached her and put her arms around
the mother's waist. "How patient you
are, mother."
"I have to be, dearie. It wouldn't do
no good to cry an' take on. I've got over
that."
" Mother, are there any happy people in
the world any working people, I mean?
JASON EDWARDS. 45
Are they all cross and tired and worried
and full of care, as we are here?"
" I don't know, Allie; but when I was a
girl back in Derry, it seemed as if most
everybody was fore-handed and had enough
t' eat. But now it seems as if everybody
was strugglin' f r dear life. It really does.
But mercy sakes ! What started us off on
this strain, I wonder. We mustn't let
Jason come in and find us like this. Now
you go wash up an' change your dress or
put on an apron, an' get the things on. I
wonder where Linnie is."
"She's out on the street, waiting for
father, I guess."
Mrs. Edwards stopped and looked more
concerned than she had before.
"It scares me to have her growin' up on
the street so, but I can't see no way to
help it. Things wan't so bad when you
was little."
Linnie's voice was heard below. "Pop
pa's come ! Poppa's come ! "
Jason Edwards entered the street door
covered with grime and dust of a machine-
shop, a small tin pail in his hand. An
46 JASOX *MlM/,v
I Inn in romiti'.' h.'in tin- oppoMt,- dinv-
lion. Mid to liiin \\itli ,i OUriOUl nilh Ottaij
I in out ol' a job
!
li . N '\. -,1ml do\\ n t"r t\\o
inun I . III.UIIIN r |M.M|IH--
I'm .still \\orkm', ;it tin* it l
tlirir Mrin; H ' of t. n |.,-r vnt. ain't
likri\ to IT ohangtd, ixotpl |Q ton
fh| tlh'\'ll rut \f lo\\n. l>r (Job, till
tlu'v's n;i\\ thin' lit't. All tli.-N \\.int B
ii.M thr rint on us. an' \\v\\ IK- in
tlh
'h-s'll do that 1
M li- lu-iMii rliiuhin'..' tli- iteil
\\a\, l.iuuii' runnin- ;ilivul to .union-
liiiL 1 . A.N lu 1 \\ i nt in, lu- made a
pout'i-t'ul clTort to ronrcal thr i-loom and
hittrrni'vs \\hirh was in liis luvirt.
Linnir in his haml- " M\
Ain't wr L-.i'ttin' 1 M-'lu i . - ( , ir
nu- slip's gTOWin 1 tatu-r in spiu- v>f thr
heat- >
As ho hun^; up his roat ami hat, l.innir
followed him about, talking. * 4 Uh, poppa.
9BWA&9& 47
I m:,,|,: ||,,: I,,, M.I -: :.ll |,Y ..MM, II
|"|M'I i.. i|. m,, | i. niy=tenty Wt, hardly,
.h.l -,..... m.-MMMftf 11
I i, ,' my I. Hi.'- k! I '!""'' 1 -""W
li..w u.'.l I .. |,
jfOOj "".llM ,
\,,.i. .,),. ,,.,.;..,
Ultli A!.- . . : nnl I
I Iflfit ' ITftfBd AH,
i -! M.I miltd ^htli rlllflg up his
, "Aha, new we're gettin' to it,
There e&a't nothing g & in thi ward
v.'i..ni Mi^ 8rightye8 kawin 9 all
,1 " I,. u. nt .,{
aJ4, {i.iii ,.]...,., ugly=
i -iunci, dear, ni have te
\vhat' diJplifte? M asked Linnie
,, :1 ntl V , v,.ll. lln blliflg ",ll,. l.-.n , : , .,. .:
..... - I'" "I"" I" 'I" '" 1'
1 1'< in teaebidg little girl* &t t tell total
-"I i ^bl f and to keep Irm talking
LI- i 4dy Murtagb, 11
(,,, .i..i,,-i t tt y t learn what diset
but got the tnb yt &! the
48 JASON EDWARDS.
case under the mirror, and drew a chair up
facing the window. "I'm all ready/' she
cried, as Edwards came out of the kitchen,
wiping his face and arms. He took his
seat in a chair, and put Linnie astride his
knees, in an attitude which was a familiar
one, and she chattered away childishly.
" Ain't you glad you've got a little girl
to comb your hair when you're tired?"
"I guess so. Without my girls I guess
we'd surrender, wouldn't we, mother?"
As Mrs. Edwards nodded, he went on in
the same tone, "But you're gettin' to be
such a great big girl, I'm afraid you won't
do this very long."
"Yes, I will; I'll do this just as long
till I'm as big as Alice yes, longer,"
asserted Linnie stoutly.
"Oh, you'll be goin' off and gettin' mar
ried one o' these days."
"I won't neither," said Linnie pouting.
"Now you stop talkin' that way. I ain't
goin' to get married 'tall."
"Don't be too sure of that."
"I'm goin' to sit here every night just
as long as I live, and comb your hair for
JASON EDWARDS. 49
you, and make you sing songs for me.
There!" she ended, patting a curl in his
hair with her little palm.
Edwards rose, and Linnie put the comb
back in the case.
"Well, Jennie," he began in a grave
and tender tone, "how goes it with you
to-day? Seems terrible hot here to-night.
Why don't you have the door open? I
swear, it's worse than the shop."
"It always is, Jason, when the wind's
in the south-west. But I can't stand the
noise, so I keep the door shut. Sometimes
it seems 's if I couldn't bear it another
minute. But I keep goin', by thinkin'
how much worse some other folks is
off."
"Yes, that's about the only way to be
patient," said Jason bitterly. " Makes me
almost wild, when I get to thinkin' of it
sometimes."
He went to the sofa and dropped heavily
upon it. Linnie got a fan from the wall,
and sat down to fan his face. Alice took
her place by the head of the sofa and
caressed his forehead.
50 JASON EDWARDS.
" Poor poppa ! It's terrible to see you so
tired. Was it very hard to-day?"
"Just one eternal tread-mill/' Edwards
said. "Never a day off. I'm glad I don't
believe in another world," he said, after a
pause. "I shouldn't be sure of rest, if I
was."
Mrs. Edwards was shocked almost out of
her slow, placid way.
"Hush, Jason! It's wicked to talk like
that. It don't do no good to talk like
that 'specially 'fore the children. Come
an' eat something now."
"What has happened to-day, father?"
said Alice quietly. " You haven't been so
discouraged for a long time."
" Oh, I'm hot and worn out," he replied
evasively.
"It does seem dreadful hot for June,"
said Mrs. Edwards, who was seated at the
table, waiting for the rest to come and eat.
Edwards raised himself on his elbow, his
face softened.
"June? What a lot that word means to
the folks in the country ! " He sat up and
looked around with a darkening face,
JASON EDWARDS. 51
"Down here, in this cursed alley, we don't
know anything about June, except it
makes our tenement hotter an' sicklier
an' w'y, to-night, girls, if we was only
back at the old farm, we'd see the mead
ows knee-deep in grass, and the world
would smell like a posy-bed. We didn't
look forward to jest this kind o' thing
when we left Derry twenty years ago, did
we, mother?"
" No, Jason ; but it ain't no use, as I see,
to worry."
" Oh, poppa, you promised you'd take us
back up there didn't he, Allie? I'm so
tired of these hot streets."
Edwards put his arm around her. "I'm
afraid there's no vacation for us this year,
Linnie. The struggle gets harder and
harder. Oh, I'm too tired to eat, Jennie,"
he ended, sinking back on the sofa.
"Come and try to drink a cup of tea,
father," urged Alice. She had more influ
ence over him now than his wife, and at
her urging he rose and took a seat at the
table, making another effort to throw off
his gloom.
52 JASON EDWARDS.
"Well, Allie, how'd you come on with
your recital or whatever you call it?"
"Very well, father; only I wish you'd
been there to hear me."
" I wish I had, but I couldn't. I've got
to keep treadin' to keep our heads above
water rent and taxes go on when I pic
nic, but wages don't."
Linnie sprang down from her chair, as
if something forgotten had occurred to her.
She ran to the piano and got a little poster
or printed letter-sheet.
"Oh, poppa, a man pushed this under
the door while we was away to-day."
It was a notice that after the first of
July, 1 884, the expiration of his lease, the
landlord found it necessary to raise the
rent. Please notify, etc. A messenger
with a bag full of these notices had been
sent out to distribute them in the tene
ments of the great land-holder whose name
was at the bottom.
Edwards sat as if stunned by this last
blow sat and gazed at the paper in his
hands. In those few moments he had
traced their devious way about the city.
JASON EDWARDS. 53
How they were obliged to leave K Street
for a poorer place on Carver Street; how
from there, where his little boy died, they
were forced again to move to poorer quar
ters, his work making it necessary for him
to keep within a certain limit. In his pres
ent mood all these things assumed a tragic
aspect. His fear and doubt disturbed
them, and as his mind ran out into the
future, his feelings grew too strong for
retention. He sprang up. His face was
terrible to see, his hands opened and shut,
his eyes blazed.
" Hain't they got no mercy, these human
wolves? Hain't it all I can stand now?
Look at it!" he cried, flinging his hand
out toward the wall. "Look at this tene
ment hotter, shabbier, rottener but rent
must go up." His voice choked, he paused
and sank back into his chair. At last he
said, "Jennie, children, I don't know what
we're goin' to do. I don't see what's corn-
in', but we're bein' squeezed out, that's
sure."
Mrs. Edwards was crying quietly, while
looking at the rent bill. Linnie came to
54 JASON EDWARDS.
her father and tried to comfort him with
patting him with her little hand.
"Don't cry, poppa. Please don't. It
makes my throat ache."
Alice sat white and rigid at the table,
her eyes fixed on her father's face. Never
before had he given way like this. There
was something awful in it. Was he going
mad?
"Never mind, Jason. It ain't much.
We can git along some way. We have
always"
At this moment some one pushed the
door open. A small, pale young man, with
a peculiar grimy complexion, and cavern
ous great eyes, came in, holding a similar
rent notice in his hand. As he came for
ward, another man with a huge beard and
smoking a long German pipe, lounged in
the doorway, with a peculiar stolid face,
but with a mocking, questioning gleam in
his eye.
"Aha!" cried the young man, coming
forward. "Vat you say now eh? Ees
it not time for to brodest ? My vages haf
been reduced tvice alretty during four years.
JASON EDWARDS. 55
My rent haf been raised four times. How?
Ees it not hell? I say, vat you do?"
Edwards shook his head. "I don't
know, Berg, I don't know."
"I know what I doo soon," answered
the young German darkly, as he turned his
face to the man in the door-way. " I make
brodest, zo I shall be heardt."
"Oh, don't do that," cried Alice, "you
mustn't do that. Keep away from those
men who believe in dynamite. They don't
belong in our free land"
Berg stopped her with a mocking smile,
which was dramatic as a gesture.
"Free? Free to pay rendt in! I fly
from dyrants, from vork andt no pay, I
reach a free landt where I am a slave
under anoder name. I see eferywhere the
march of feudalism. I lose hope. Ledt
them beware! They squeeze me to de vail.
I shall vight. I am a volf at pay. I haf
reach my las' hope. If I fall now, I trag
somedings mit me."
There was a concentration of purpose in
the man's tone which held them all silent,
though they could not sympathize with him.
56 JASON EDWARDS.
Alice rose and walked up to him.
"Don't be rash, Mr. Berg. Don't do that
I mean what you mean. Don't go out
with those men for your mother's sake."
The young German gazed at her for a
moment, then drew a long breath.
"For your zake I go not oudt."
" No, no, not for my sake," she protested
hastily. "For your mother's sake."
"For your sake," he persisted. "Do
you hear?" he said to the silent figure.
"Ich geli nict heraus."
The man at the door laughed silently
and went away. Berg also went out, say
ing, "I come again to see you."
Alice came back to Edwards with a fire
in her eyes. "Can't you do something,
father ? Can't you strike ? "
"No, we can't strike," said Edwards
spiritlessly. " At least, it wouldn't do any
good. What can men do strikin' with
families like I've got. Rents goin' up and
wages goin' down. I don't see the end of
this thing."
"Don't give up, Jason," said Mrs. Ed
wards, in her monotonous and hopeless
JASON EDWARDS. 57
way. "We'll get along some way. We
can live in a cheaper tenement."
"I don't want you to do that, Jennie.
This is poor enough, God knows."
"I'll give up my studies, father/' said
Alice, with a firm look. "I'll teach and
learn typewriting, and I'll help"
"It wouldn't save us, my girl. By
next year the rents will be higher. It
ain't the present that scares me it's the
future. There don't seem to be no hope
for the future. I'm gettin' old. I'm lia
ble to break down any day, and be sick for
a week or a month, and if I was, we'd
need help soon. John's wages jest barely
support him and wife and baby. He can't
help us, and Linnie ought to go to school,
and Allie ought to go on with her music."
"I can give that up I mean the study
ing and I'll make it earn me something.
I'll find a way to help "
"So'll I," chirped Linnie, who had nest
led between her father's knees. "Poppa,
don't you worry we'll earn money."
"What's the world comin' to, Jason,
when sober, hard-workin' people can't get
58 JASON EDWARDS.
a decent livin'?" sighed Mrs. Edwards, as
she looked sorrowfully over the uneaten
supper.
"I don't know. I tell you, Jennie, I've
done a pile o' thinkin' down there in the
shop since my last cut-down. I've looked
at the whole matter fore and aft, up one
side and down t'other, an' it's jest a
plain case of wages goin' down and rents
goin' up, and us bein' squeezed between
the two." He thought a moment darkly.
"Jest look at it! Here we are finally
squeezed into one o' the worst places in
the city, simply because rents are so high
and wages so low, an' we can't afford car
fare." He was silent a long time. At
last Mrs. Edwards spoke.
"Well, less eat some supper, anyway:
They sat up to the table once more,
but the meal was a short and scanty one.
Each was busy with the problem. Alice
toyed with her spoon and cup, looking
with wide, unseeing eyes into the future.
A great sob of disappointment and hope
less sorrow came in her throat, till it ached
with physical strain.
JASON EDWARDS. 59
Her thoughts flew to Reeves and then to
her music. As she saw again the vast
audience in the hall, before whom she had
sung and whose applause had been like
some strange, vast assurance of her power,
and a prophecy of her future triumph, and
contrasted that scene with this poor little
home in a tenement house, she was bewil
dered and despairing.
The father, sitting there, was so real and
so tragic, with the tired droop in his shoul
ders and the shadow of defeat in his eyes.
The smell of the alley and the so and of the
swarming life in the tenement, so powerful
that the music-hall and its gay, flattering
crowd was like a dream. She was think
ing again of Reeves, when her father's
voice recalled her. He was saying in a
curiously hesitating voice, "If I was a
young man if I had nobody dependin' on
me or if you and I was young, Jen
nie" there was such a terrific rush and
clatter and screams and sound of blows,
that his voice was lost, and he motioned to
Linnie to close the door. "Good heavens!
It's like livin' in a lunatic asylum."
60 JASON EDWARDS.
"That's the reason I keep the door
shet," said his wife. "I'd sooner smother
than have that noise dingin' in my ears."
"If I was a young man," he resumed,
"and the girls didn't need schooling they'd
be one way out, just one an' that's to go
West get a piece of free land"
Alice turned quickly. "Do it now. Do
it! We'll go West and help you, won't
we? Why didn't we think of it before?"
she went on, warming with the idea.
" Why, of course, everybody is happy that
goes West. It's the only chance for peo
ple like us. Everybody says 'go West!'
Music teachers do well in the West quite
a lot of the girls are out there" she
rushed on, impetuously carried away with
the idea.
Edwards rose and went to the wall
where his coat hung, and got out a bundle
of maps and posters.
"Well, now you've said that, Alice, I'll
own up I've been studyin' the matter for a
long time. I've jest about wore these
maps out lookin' at 'em down at the
shop."
JASON EDWARDS. 61
The posters were gaily colored affairs,
calling attention to the cheap rates to the
"Garden spot of the West". They were
the usual western railway folders, with
large maps of Dakota and Kansas. "Ho!
for the Golden West ! Free farms for the
homeless ! "
Edwards cleared a place on the table,
and spread them all out.
"Now, here's Boston, and there's Chi
cago, and then you go out along that
black line till you get there, and there's
free land? Free land, mother!" he said,
smiling a little for the first time.
"What's free land?" said Linnie, with
the Irish inflection.
"Free land is where they ain't no
landlords an' no rent," said her father.
"Where they ain't no rich an' no poor.
Where they ain't no bosses an' no servants.
Where people don't live all cooped up in
dens like this. Where they raise such corn
as that." Here he unrolled a gaudy poster,
which showed a bunch of resplendent, enor
mous ears of corn. "Where people have
homes of their own, and cows, and trees,
62 JASON EDWARDS.
and brooks full o' trout runnin' by like
this," he ended, displaying a poster, on
which was an alluring picture of a farm
house with a broad river in the back
ground, on which a boat floated idly,
containing two women, presumably the
farmer's wife and daughter. The farmer
himself in the foreground was seated on a
self-binding reaper, holding the reins over
an abnormally sleek and prancing pair of
horses. He wore a fine Kossuth hat and
a standing collar, and his shirt was immac
ulate. A deer was looking out at him
(with pardonable curiosity) from a neigh
boring wood-lot. It was the ideal farmer,
and the farm of the land-boomer and the
self-glorifying American newspaper.
"Oh, let's go!" the little one cried, tak
ing it all literally. "Can't I have a
hen, poppa?" she asked, catching sight
of a stately flock on parade by the wood-
side.
"A dozen of 'em." While Edwards did
not take the poster literally, he had the
eastern laborer's ignorance of the West.
It was all fabulous to him.
JASON EDWARDS. 63
"Oh, goody, goody! Let's go to-mor
row," chattered Liimie.
"Mother, that's our way out of this hole
sure enough. Ed. Ruble and his father
went out there. He wrote to me and two
of the boys in the shop cracked the
country up great both gettin' rich, he
said. We can build a log house that'll
do for a year or two, till we raise a crop.
You can stand a log house, can't you, Jen
nie?" he said tenderly, putting his hand
on his wife's shoulders.
"Of course. We won't mind that. But
how'll we get the money, Jason? We
ain't got much, an' it'll take a lot o'
money to git out there an' git settled
fairly."
"We'll manage some way, now you've
agreed to go. We'll have to sell the
furniture"
"Oh, will we?" asked Alice.
"Yes, it wouldn't pay to ship it. Some
of the things we'll pawn, an' mebbe we can
redeem 'em after a year or two. I can
raise a few hundred dollars, I guess, all
told."
64 JASON EDWARDS.
"That old blue Chiny set of mine that
Grandfather Baldwin give grandmother
the old man that mends Chiny says its
worth a lot o' money I'll sell that," put
in Mrs. Edwards.
"Good!" said Jason, who was looking
at the map. "We'll find a way now we've
made up our minds to go. If I hadn't
been a fool, we'd 'a' gone long 'fore this."
"I wonder if John'll go."
"He would, but his wife won't listen
to it. I know, 'cause he told me he'd
talked the whole thing over with her.
There's the road to health and wealth!
Good-by to rents."
Edwards was already expanding with
the freedom of it all. He let his imagina
tion have full wing, and as he talked, he
seemed like a new man. The breath of a
new life seemed to enter into him.
" I see the way out now. By the time
Linnie grows up I'll be able to come back
here and live independent. I feel as if a
pile-driver had rolled off my shoulders."
"You look so, father," smiled Alice.
"You look more like your real self now.
JASON EDWARDS. 65
I'll take my piano and teach music. Per
haps I can get a place in the schools."
" We'll find plenty to do out there.
The thing is, to get out there. Then
we're all right. When'll we go?"
"Let's go right off," said Linnie.
"All right," replied Edwards, as if the
advice had come from a reliable source.
He was already full of springing dreams.
In a vague, sunny field of vision, he saw a
comfortable home among the trees, a lake
near at hand (or a river) , golden fields of
grain, and cattle feeding on green hillsides.
All the reports of plenty he had ever read
came back now to fill his mind. Letters
from friends and relatives, newspaper arti
cles, lectures, poems, songs, all the legend
ary, as well as real prosperity and cheer of
the great West.
"What was that old song you used to
sing, Jennie, something about 'O'er the
hills in legions, boys' can't you remem
ber it? About buffaloes an' ploughs an'
rifles"
Mrs. Edwards, who was busy about the
table, stopped and hummed an old air.
66 JASON EDWARDS.
"That's it! That's it!" said Edwards.
"Can't you play it, Allie?"
Alice went to the piano and struck the
chord s, while Mrs. Edwards sang an old
song current years ago, a song which is
full of the breath of hope and the peculiar
vibrant melody of the pioneer who is born
and not made a song that makes the
heart of many a gray-haired man or
woman thrill with memories of long jour
neys, stormy nights, sombre forests and
sunny streams a song that dates far into
the forties, bringing forward to us to-day
the boundless energy and freedom and
imagination of Boone and Crockett, and
the men they led into the West.
" Cheer up, brothers, as we go
O'er the mountains, westward ho !
While herds of deer and buffalo
Furnish the cheer.
Then o'er the hills in legions, boys,
Fair freedom's star
Points to the sunset region, boys,
Ha, ha! Ha, ha!
"When we've wood and prairie land
Won by our toil,
JASON EDWARDS. 67
We'll reign like kings in fairy-land,
Lords of the soil.
Then o'er the hills in legions, boys,
Fair fields afar !
We'll have our rifles ready, boys,
Ha, ha! Ha, ha!"
And as he sang, he seized Linnie and
danced.
68 JASON EDWARDS.
IV.
EDWARDS' daily walk was down a nar
row street, a drear, desolate, gray
crevice, hot and joyless. The hot, dusty
gray of the cobble-stones, the brown-gray
of the sidewalks, the sullen drab of the
houses which lined the way, forming a des
olate searing attack upon the eyes, unre
lieved by any touch of coolness, harmony
or grace.
There was a full half-mile of this, which
he traversed daily for twelve years. He
knew and hated it in all its phases. Sullen
and sombre when it rained, dusty when
the wind blew, foul-smelling and damp,
bleak and deadly when the cold northern
blasts came roaring through it.
The ingenuity of man could not have
devised a more sinister, depressing and
JASON EDWARDS. 69
hopeless prospect. The houses, mainly
wood, opened directly upon the sidewalk.
The brick blocks, offering only a slight
variation in ugliness; little bake-shops
alternated with saloons and fruit-stores,
where dusty and specked fruit was offered
for sale to the children.
This street Edwards followed till it
reached an end in another thoroughfare,
along which the horse-cars clashed and
tinkled. The last half of his daily walk
was out along a street still more nonde
script, an indescribable abomination. A
street lined with tumble-down sheds in
which rags were picked over; sheds where
blacksmiths toiled at horse-shoeing or sharp
ening picks ; sheds alternating with vacant
lots, with "Free Dump" cards appearing
there, showing that some speculator was
not averse to having his lot graded for
him.
Frightful stenches were abroad along
this street, offal wagons passed, heavy
drays with clashing, clanging loads of iron
rolled slowly along, drawn by three horses
tandem. The railway side-tracks and shops
70 JASON EDWARDS.
were here, and the sound of engines start
ing and stopping, coupling and jerking,
was a daily, hourly tumult.
Shops and foundries of various kinds
were located here on this low ground, and
along the cindery paths, hot as ashes in
the sun, sticky in the rain, a dreary proces
sion of workmen like Jason Edwards plod
ded sullenly, slouching for the 'most part
with little of the lightness and joy which
the morning should possess.
Men with ragged, grimy coats, with din
ner-pails in their hands and pipes in their
mouths, went to their work, as prisoners
to the tread-mill. They had no interest in
their tasks, they were working in general
to live and feed their children. They were
not like craftsmen, but convicts in their
joyless walk.
Edwards on this next morning after his
determination to go West, walked along
this street like a new man. He saw more
of the horror or, more exactly acknowl
edged more of it, than he had ever dared
before to see or acknowledge. He was like
a prisoner whose term of confinement was
JASON EDWARDS. 71
expiring, and who could therefore afford to
see the terror of the life he was escaping.
The smells were never so offensive, and
the low, ramshackle, dingy shed in which
he had worked so long never looked so
horrible before.
He stopped at the door of the foundry,
and called to the man who was working at
the furnace. "Hello, Jerry! Goin' to be
hot again, ain't it?"
Jerry Sullivan, a fine, stalwart Irishman,
came to the door.
"God sakes, man! Wan day's like
another to me. But what puts the smile
on your face this mornin'?"
"I'm out of it, Jerry."
" Now what's that ? < Out of it ' ? "
"I'm goin' West." Jerry dropped his
bar in astonishment.
"Ye don't mean it, Edwards?"
"I do, Jerry. I'll be damned if I'll
stand this any more. I've walked this
street for twelve years, and I'm sick of it.
I'm out of it."
"I wish to God I was," said Jerry, with
a touch of despondency.
72 JASON EDWARDS.
" Come along ! Try the West."
"I can't get away."
There was a little pause. They watched
the men come in with their ragged coats
on, and change their tolerably clean shirts
for the rags and tatters which did duty in
the shop.
"Hello, Pat! How are yeh, this morn-
in'?" called Edwards, as another man
came up.
"It's a-all right for him to be shmilin'
this mornin' he's out of it," exclaimed
Sullivan. "I wish I could go with yeh
I'd do it in a minnit damn me sowl, but
I wud."
Four or five now gathered around, eager
to hear the plans of Edwards. Not one
but said
"Glad you're gettin' out of it, Edwards.
If we could go with yeh but it's no use
talkin'"
There was something mythic in the
West to these men. It represented a far
away, hopeful region, where work was
plenty and rents low. Most of them knew
very little about the geography of the
JASON EDWARDS. 73
West. Montana and Kansas were about
the same to most of them, but it was all
"West".
It set them dreaming in a curious way,
this heroic change of their fellow-work
man. It opened anew the possibilities of
their going. They crowded around, ask
ing questions, forgetful that the "boss"
had entered.
"Come, get to work here," sounded the
harsh, almost brutal voice of the foreman.
"You'd better look out Locke and Bradley
don't jump on your neck," he said to
Edwards in a more jovial tone, as he came
up.
"They've got through jumpin' on my
neck," replied Edwards.
He felt a delicious sense of freedom. He
could have sung in fact, he did make a
pleasant noise which he called singing.
He was in no hurry to go to his own shop,
so dropped in a moment in a shop where
wood-work for carriages was turned out.
A particular friend, an Englishman, by
the name of Jasper Barker, worked here
as machinist. He was in earnest conver-
74 JASON EDWARDS.
sation with Julius Berg when Edwards
entered. Both shouted above the noise of
the shop, and motioned a welcome.
"I'm goin'," said Edwards with vast
elation.
"So 'e tells me. Well, hTm glad some
body gets hout of it. HTd get out myself
honly hTm a-gettin' along in years, and the
children and he very think. H'it's the think
to do, though. Wen you go?"
"Eight off next month. Berg says he's
goin', too."
"So I am. I shall not stay do vork lige
a nigger see dose men vork."
Edwards looked at the two men who
were bending hot steaming strips of wood
around huge semi-circular blocks. They
used heavy machinery, but the work was
terrific, and the heat intense. One man
was a bulldog in shape and movement, and
was a prize-fighter fallen to this or risen
to this as one looks at it.
The other was a curious combination of
timid face, retreating chin, narrow, brain
less skull, but tremendous power and
endurance. The sweat streamed in tor-
JASON EDWARDS. 75
rents from both. They did not look up.
They worked as silently as a bulldog fights.
Together they swung the huge forms to
the axis, then while the prize-fighter pulled
down the wide iron band which encircled
the block, the tall man placed four of the
steaming felloes upon the band. The
machinery was started by the fighter, the
form revolved, the banded wood and iron
bound upon the same circular block, was
fastened, and together they lifted the
heavy block away beside others.
"Andt all dat for ten tollars a veek,"
said Berg. "They are not men, they are
masshines."
Edwards walked on. There were some
little things he wished to do, and then he
purposed gathering up his tools.
"Look here, Edwards, you can't leave
this way without notice."
" How much notice are you in the habit
of givin' the men you discharge?" replied
Jason. "Besides, I've got a man to take
my place better man than I am. I've
got through with you, or anybody like yeh.
I've been a slave about long enough."
76 JASON EDWARDS.
As Edwards looked in at the foundry
door on his way back, about five o'clock,
men were "pouring". It was a grew-
some sight. With grimy, sooty shirts,
open at the throat, in a temperature
of deadly heat, they toiled like demons.
There was little humanity in their faces,
as the dazzling metal threw a dull-red glow
on them.
Here and there, with warning shouts,
they ran, bent like gnomes, with pots of
shining, flame-colored liquid lighting their
grimy faces. Here toiled two stalwart
fellows, with a huge pot between them;
with hoarse shouts they drew up beside a
huge "flask" or moulding-box. The skim
mer pushed away the slag, the radiant
metal leaped out and down into the sand,
sending spurts of yellow-blue flame out of
a half -hundred crevices.
There was a man calking the next flask
with wet sand. He paid no attention to
the pot of deadly liquid, which passed close
enough to singe his hair. A little further
on, another man was knocking off the
clamps that held the flask together. Every-
JASON EDWARDS. 77
where was heat, the smell of burning wood,
gases, steam, and the sight of leaping, ex
ploding, shining metal.
Edwards looked up at Jerry, who stood
beside the furnace, stripped almost to the
skin, in a heat that would kill a man unac
customed to it, heaving scraps of iron into
the horrible cauldron, which he was obliged
to stir occasionally with a long bar. Below
him stood another half-naked man, whose
business was to alternately open and shut
the vent of the furnace.
Sometimes, as he punched his bar into
the vent and let the terrifying flood of
gleaming metal out, it exploded all over
him in showers of bursting sparks, like
an explosion of Roman candles, making
him leap aside to avoid the burning
shower.
The metal fell with a beautiful parabola
into the pots held below, while the man
with the bar seized a handful of fire-clay
and moulded it upon the long staff, in form
like a cork, and at the word of the fore
man, or when pots were filled, he rammed
the clay into the vent, and the flow ceased,
78 JASON EDWARDS.
only to be opened again a few moments
later, with the same shower of sparks.
Jason Edwards remained a long time
looking at this scene. Its terror came in
upon him as never before. That men
should toil like that for ten dollars per
week, as Berg had said, was horrible.
"I would preak into chail pefore I do
dat," Berg's words had run.
A big, hearty man, a little gray in his
full beard, came out of a dingy little office
near by, and joined Edwards.
"I hear you're going to leave us."
"Who told you?"
"Jerry."
"Well, I am. I don't never want to
see this thing again."
"Pretty tough job these hot days, sure."
"And all for ten dollars a week !"
" And that's all I can afford to pay 'em.
I won't make five hundred dollars clear of
expenses this year. I'm pinched, too. I
don't get anything out of it."
"Who does? The angels don't get it."
* * % * # %
On his way home Edwards stopped foi
JASON EDWARDS. 79
a moment at the only pleasant spot on his
walk, and looked across the flat to the far-
off hills. As he stood there wondering
why those hills should be so inaccessible,
he heard the thrillingly sweet fan-fare of
a coaching-trumpet, and the next moment
down the street came two coach-loads of
young people.
Ribbons gayly fluttering, eyes dancing
with pride and pleasure, some of them
flushed with wine. One young girl held
the whip, the postilion held the shining
horn to his lips, signalling all carts and
drays to get out of the way. "With a
whirl of dust, and grind of wheels and jin
gle of chains and bits, the coach-loads
passed, just as the men in the foundry up
the street dropped their pots and stripped
their ragged shirts from their sooty, trem
ulous muscles.
80 JASON EDWARDS.
V.
IT would not be true to say that Eeeves
had not estimated fairly the resistance
which the peculiar feeling of Alice offered
to his marriage idea. He had already
learned something of the immense force
resident in that slender body, and some
thing of the iron will that lay behind that
delicate oval of face, from which the brave
eyes looked unwaveringly.
He could see them now, as he sat at his
desk. He had finished his work in the
office, and was ready to go out. He should
have been at lunch, but here he sat, dream
ing of Alice, and studying the problem.
"There's abundant good sense in what
she says," he thought, gazing at the flower-
like electric lamp which hung, a pale-faced
morning-glory, before him. "It is a hard
problem. It isn't merely a matter of help-
JASON EDWARDS. 81
ing them over a bad spot it's a matter of
domesticating them in my house, or provid
ing for their living and to her it has
something like the air of charity. I sup
pose she's looking forward to the future, of
making a big hit, and taking care of them
herself. Well, there's nothing for it but to
wait"
"Hello!" exclaimed Daggett. "Ain't
you going to attend to the meeting down
to the Temple?"
"Of course by Jinks. Eight o'clock
thanks!"
"Oh, I know how it is myself," grinned
Daggett. "Had such moments of dream
ing myself when I have nothing to do
now I sleep."
Reeves went down the elevator, think
ing about that last phrase. Somehow, it
bit into his mind. Odd his mind should
suddenly be made so receptive of these
ideas. First Alice, and now Daggett, cyn
ical, hard, dry old Daggett, had set him
thinking.
Was it not true that most men, when
their work was ended had only energy
82 JASON EDWARDS.
enough left to sleep? Was it not true
that American business life was sapping
too much from the intellectual life of its
people ? he asked himself as he went down
the street.
The immense hall was crowded to the
doors, and on the stage was a short man
with a large brow and finely-shaped head,
speaking with a peculiar, vibrating, crisp
and expressive intonation, while the audi
ence was cheering wildly. His words
were singularly well chosen, and his style
was simple, bare of ornament, and entirely
individual. He walked about the plat
form noiselessly and unconsciously, and
his face, very sensitive and expressive,
showed sincerity and enthusiasm.
The sentences which he heard as he
entered were the ones which seemed to
Keeves the most striking of all that was
said, and lived longest in his mind :
"We do not believe in charity. We
hate charity, because it is not justice. It
is a palliative of the evils caused by injus
tice. It degrades and debases. It results
from a system essentially wrong, a sys-
JASON EDWARDS. 83
tern which denies human rights. The most
ominous of all signs is the growth of the
need of charity in the midst of abounding
wealth. Equal rights to all, and special
privileges to none, strictly interpreted, is
the solution."
On the whole, Reeves listened to the
speaker in a professional way, making vari
ous mental notes for his editorial the next
day, admiring the spirit of the orator, but
believing him to be more of a poet than a
practical economist. The meeting itself,
however, was a revelation. It told him of
how much discontent there was in the city
at large, and in his article the next day he
said as much under the usual impersonal
we",
"Mr. George, whose genius we admire,
is right in saying that something is wrong,
but as for his panacea, we do not place
much importance upon that. But finally,
we repeat that too much importance can
not be placed upon the fact that two thou
sand people met in Tremont Temple to
cheer the sentiments that social conditions
are unjust. That is the important thing
84 JASON EDWARDS.
to remember not the fine-spun theories
of a dreamer like Mr. Henry George."
When he came down to the office next
morning, the city editor was reading the
proof of his judgment.
"You hit it about right/' said he to
Reeves. "The trouble is deep too deep
for any such three-cent remedy as taxing
site value."
"How's that?" asked Reeves, astonished.
"I say we've got to have something
more radical than a system of taxation to
cure this thing "
"Say, don't talk so loud," put in the
exchange editor, who was pillowed in
the morning papers. "You infernal old
anarchist"
"I thought George sufficiently radical,"
said Reeves, taking off his coat.
"Radical!" said another. "He's a con
servative from my point of view."
"Why, Merrill, what's made you break
out in this new spot?"
"It ain't a new spot."
"Ain't?"
"No, I've been a red-handed-something-
JASON EDWARDS. 85
'r-other ever since I bought that land out
in Dorchester. Paid five hundred for my
lot, went to work and built a good house
on it. Next year thought I'd buy a lot for
my brother's widow to build on by Jinks!
he wanted a thousand dollars for it."
"Well, that's all right, ain't it?" said the
exchange editor. " The land had increased
in value."
"Yes my work and money increased
the value of his lot, and he got it. It's all
wrong, I tell you!" And he slammed a
handful of copy into the lift and sent it
whirling up to the composing-room.
" Now that's the way some people rea
son," philosophized Daggett. "By the
way, there's a note for you on my desk.
Boy made a mistake and left it in my
box."
The note was from Alice, and asked him
to call soon, as she had something import
ant to say to him.
Reeves' spirits rose with a bound. She
was going to consent. She had thought it
all over, and was going to give up the
struggle. He whistled as he worked, and
86 JASON EDWAEDS.
his face shone so that his companions
noticed it.
"Reeves looks as if he had been made
over new. I wonder if it can be the result
of the anti-poverty meeting."
" Possibly he found out how to get rich.
If he has, I hope to God he'll let me know
the secret/' put in the financial editor,
who was busy over the stock exchange
reports.
"Oh, Reeves ain't thinkin' o' that it's
some girl 'r other," Daggett shouted,
thrusting his head out of his distant stall.
"I know all about it. Used to be a great
hand with the girls myself."
"Yeh don't say so," said the military
editor. "Lookin' as you do."
"Lookin' as I did" Daggett replied.
"I could whistle, an' chaw gum, an' write
an editorial all at the same time then.
By the way, Reeves, that's a very judicious
little article this morning just the right
tone. We don't want to jump on a man
just because he's got a crazy, beautiful
scheme in his head nothing like getting
the right tone oh, by the way, Merrill, I
JASON EDWARDS. 87
wish you'd write an article column or so
on that Cobden Club bugbear. I see the
Chronicle is out with a scare-head this
morning cut into 'em sharp"
And so the work went on. At intervals
Reeves pondered on the subject of that
letter, and as the hour for his release
drew near, he was not so happy over it.
The interview was momentous and meant
immediate happiness, or a long separation.
Somehow he couldn't make himself believe
it was either of these things. It seemed
impossible that a girl could hold out
against such great odds.
It was the play-spell in the office, and
the editors were smoking and pretending
to be busy. They saw Reeves beginning
to get ready to go out, and began :
"Say, Reeves, I'd like to have you
throw off a couple of sticks about this
bloody dog-show," said Daggett.
"Oh, bother your show!"
"By the way, Reeves," said the military
editor, "I heard a capital new story the
other day about Dr. Johnson sit down
here"
88 JASON EDWAEDS.
"I really don't think that hat becomes
him well do you?" chimed in the liter
ary editor. " It gives him a depressed look
which is out of keeping."
Reeves fled. They were all good fel
lows, but he didn't care to be joked this
night.
JASON EDWARDS. 89
VI.
'"PHE street was again crowded with peo
ple, but differently they had eaten
their suppers, young and old, and now in
the falling dusk, were out of doors to get
a little rest and fresher air. It was not
and could not be fresh air. The children
were playing still, but a little less wildly.
Girls of fifteen or seventeen, hardly more
than children, were promenading up and
down the streets, chatting among them
selves and exchanging dubious sentences
with groups of young men and boys stand
ing in the doorways, insolent and noisy,
boys with savage, cruel, sneaking mouths,
and evil eyes.
Many of these young people, already old
in vice, were talking horribly and laugh
ing senselessly, as they stood in dark nooks
and doorways, while their toil-worn and
90 JASON EDWARDS.
weary mothers were working within doors,
clearing away the supper dishes, or putting
the younger children to bed, having neither
time nor patience to watch over their
grown-up sons and daughters.
The older men smoked on stolidly, as
they sat on the door-steps, filling the street
with poisonous smoke. Some of them
sauntered down to the saloon on the cor
ner, and some were talking politics in the
middle of the street. Most of them paid
very little attention to Keeves, but the girls
snickered as he passed. One or two said,
"Ah, there!" in that indescribable tone
which is both a jest and an invitation.
Some of the men looked after him with
an envious spirit, and some of the young
men sent out a volley of low-spoken jibes.
He walked on, with more of pain and dis
gust than rage in his heart.
He seemed to see more of the hideous
future of these people, these young people
born for a prison or a brothel in so many
cases. How long can this disease go on
intensifying, he thought. He stopped a
moment, and looked at it all with a sud-
JASON EDWARDS. 91
den sweep of the eye, a hot, unwhole
some alley, swarming with vicious and
desperate life a horribly ugly, graceless,
badly-lighted alley, poison-tainted, vice-
infected. He thought of the miles of such
streets in Boston, a street almost typical.
Boston was predominantly of this general
character, as he well knew. The real Bos
ton does not get itself photographed and
sent about the country.
It was quieter up near the Edwards' ten
ement, and Linnie and Jason sat talking
in the shadow of the doorway. The pic
ture of the ideal farm on the poster had
made a profound impression on the little
one's mind.
"And we can have a boat, can't we?"
"I guess so."
"And does the grass come right up to
the door?"
"Eight smack up to it. When you go
out the door splush there you are right
in it."
"Oh, I wish we was out there now!
Don't you, poppa? There ain't no birds
here, 'cept sparrows, and they don't sing."
92 JASON EDWARDS.
"They're too busy gettin' a livin' to sing."
Eeeves stepped up before them. " Good
evening, Mr. Edwards."
"Good evening Mr. Reeves didn't see
yeh. Linnie, run up an' tell Allie Mr.
Reeves is here. Sorry I can't offer you a
chair on my verandy but if you'll come
out West a couple o' years from now, I'll
doit"
"Out West!" exclaimed Reeves. "You
don't mean to say you're going "
"West just that, exactly. I've stood
this kind o' thing" he looked around
"about as long as I can. I've decided to
make a break fr freedom f'r tall timber,
as they say out West."
This involved so much that Reeves was
silent, waiting for him to go on.
"There ain't no fair sight f'r me here,"
Edwards went on, "and now mother and
the girls are ready to go"
"Is Alice going?"
"That's the calculation. She thinks
there'll be a good chance out there to
teach music. But go up and see her
she's up stairs."
JASON EDWARDS. 93
Reeves went up the stairs slowly, think
ing rapidly. It was absurd how low his
spirits had fallen. When he entered the
door which Linnie held open, Alice was
seated by the window, gazing at a little
patch of the sky, which showed between
the tenement blocks just a hint of the
sunset's glory.
"What's this I hear, Alice are you
going West to grow up with the country?"
he asked with an assumption of gaiety
which he did not feel.
She turned to meet him, very gravely.
He went on in a different voice then:
"It can't be possible you are going."
"Sit down here, Walter I've got so
much to say to you. Yes, we're going
as soon as possible. June is a good
time to go."
"But I don't understand. It's well
enough for your father to go, but I can't
think of your going. I want you to stay
with me, Alice."
There was poignant appeal in these few
words, and they shook her powerfully.
"I can't do that they need me." She
7
94 JASON EDWARDS.
was not quite decisive, after all, and lie
did not believe it.
"What can you do?"
"I can teach. There are good chances
in the West for teachers, and I will get a
school near the farm."
" But what of me ? What of our plans ? "
"We must wait."
Reeves rose and stood beside her chair.
" Alice, do you know what that means to
us?"
"I know what it means to father and
mother and Linnie," she answered eva
sively. She took a morbid delight in
keeping her voice hard and cold.
"Alice, you're leaving me," he cried
despairingly.
"For a short time."
"I'm afraid for ever."
"Can't you trust me?"
"No not two thousand miles away."
"Then our engagement had better be
broken off now," she said with quick
resentment.
"Be careful!"
"I mean it. I don't want you to be"
JASON EDWARDS. 95
"Alice, you are leaving me." He was
deeply moved. He could not understand
her motive or her mood.
"I begin to lose hope. Will you ever
come back to me?"
"Yes, when I can come right. When
my people are not objects of charity. Now
please don't talk of that any more now. I
can't bear it. It is so hard to leave beau
tiful musical and art life of Boston, just
when it seems opening to me. Don't
make it harder for us."
"Alice," said Eeeves, coming out of a
deep fit of musing, "if your voice were as
hard and cold as your words, I'd leave this
house and never see you again but it
ain't you do care for me. It is hard for
you to turn away from me and all that I
offer, so I hope to have you coming back
one of these days, like the poor little dove
you are, to her nest."
"Would you rather have me come a
poor helpless thing, or a woman?"
There was something in her face and
voice which he could not understand
a faint light from the patch of sky was on
96 JASON EDWARDS.
her averted face, as she asked him that
question.
Keeves rose despairingly. "Will you
write?"
"I will write yes, of course/' she
replied, looking at him, and when Mrs.
Edwards brought the lamp in, Alice was
still sitting at the window, looking out at
the fragment of sky, into which a star had
bloomed.
JASON EDWARDS. 97
PART II THE FARMER.
I.
IT was a very quiet day in Boomtown,
an intolerably hot, dry day in early
July, 1889. The streets were practically
deserted. Here and there a team, with
tired, drooping heads, stood panting at the
blazing wooden side-walks, while their
drivers sat under the awnings before the
shops, or clinked beer-mugs inside the cool,
damp saloon.
Boomtown was the usual prairie town,
absolutely treeless, built mainly of wood,
and scattered about on the dun sod like a
handful of pine blocks of irregular sizes
and shapes.
Most of the buildings had huge battle
ments fronting the principle streets, and
JASON EDWARDS.
awnings over the front, which made an
admirable lounging place for the clerks,
who found little to do these hot, dry days
but sit on nail-kegs and boxes and toss
pennies.
It was just before harvest, and the farm
ers were pushing haying to their utmost,
and had not yet begun to buy their provis
ions. Beside, there was not a little uncer
tainty as to the possibility of a harvest. A
vast simoon-like wind was sweeping up
from the South, and it was the critical
stage between flower and fruit. The
wheat might be prevented from filling
this wind had been blowing at intervals
for a week, and was commencing again on
this particular morning.
The radiant sky soaring in incommunica
ble splendor above the parched plain, with
its anxious dwellers, had, however, a faint,
all but imperceptible, whitish tone, as if
a silvery vail were being slowly drawn
athwart the blue, from the South. Some
of those most weather-wise said this meant
rain, but most observers saw little encour
agement in such impalpable change.
JASON EDWARDS. 99
Judge Balser's office was a favorite
lounging place for the old settlers of
Boomtown. It was a small, wooden build
ing, with an enomous battlement, on which
was painted in large black letters, (a relic
of the days of early settlement eight years
ago) "Judge S. H. Balser, Land Agent and
Attorney-at-Law. Claims located, Final
Proofs Made Out, etc., etc." It was on
the south side of the street, and was one
of the coolest places in town, a fact well
known to the loafers.
The judge looked very natty in his neat
gray suit, his beard nicely clipped, his cuffs
immaculate, and was sitting with his
neatly-shod feet high on his desk beside
his pearl-gray high hat. He was smoking
daintily, and reading a paper spread on
his knee.
Frank Graham, a stalwart fellow, in his
shirt-sleeves and with the wicker cuffs com
monly worn by grocers, on his wrists, was
also seated with his feet in air, poised on
the edge of a table which sat in the middle
of the floor. Hank Whiting, proprietor of
the "Western House", sat near the win-
100 JASON EDWARDS.
dow, his feet on the sill, his vest unbut
toned, and his hat on his neck.
It was very still in the office, save when
the judge rustled a paper so still that
the flies could be heard buzzing against the
window-panes, and the distant clink of an
anvil came with weirdly muffled sounds,
joined with the occasional clang of the
bell of the switch engine at the upper
end of the street. Whiting was dozing,
Frank was evidently dreaming, but not
dozing.
Suddenly the judge yawned, laying
down his paper and raising his arms above
his head in a prolonged stretching. " Oh,
ho, ho ! The ' Argus ' still lives."
"What's the matter now?" asked Frank
listlessly.
"Oh, the same old grind."
And as the others listened he read in a
languid way the following editorial, and
the contrast with the judge's lazy voice was
very marked.
"It is with sorrow, therefore, that we
see the noble profession of journalism
trampled in the mire by such vandal
JASON EDWARDS. 101
hoofs" the judge paused, knocked the
ashes from his cigar daintily with his
ringed little finger.
"Vandal hoofs ain't bad."
"By such vandal hoofs as those of the
editor of the 'Bellplain Argus'. Were we
the only ones to suffer from these vile vitu
perations of the paltry poltroon and limit
less liar"
"Good," said Frank, roused out of his
listlessness. " Limitless liar is immense
Shakespearean, in fact. Wilson ought to
hear that."
The judge proceeded. "Limitless liar
and troglodite "
"Troglodyte! Well, now! Must be a
new hand on the 'Pulverizer'. Does he
pay his respects to the 'Spike"! What
does he call the Major?"
The judge laid down the paper and
yawned again heavily, and then rose and
removed his coat, put his hat on to get it
out of the way, tipped it back on his neck,
and sat down at his table before answering.
" Oh, yes. Same old bluff. Says our boom
is on the down grade, that the railroad is
102 JASON EDWARDS.
going to be extended, and leave us and
so forth."
Frank looked slyly around, then said in
a voice of confidence, "Well, don't let it
get out. But I haven't averaged twenty-
dollars' sale this last week."
Whiting opened his lank jaws at this
moment to say, "That's nawthin' leetle
slow now, but things '11 boom in a week 'r
two."
The judge was also confident.
"'Course it will. This is just a sort o'
breathin' spell. Everybody lettin' go to
get a better hold."
"Trouble is there's a lot o' fellows
never had any kind of a hold to let go of.
This is the third season of short crops,
and fellows like John Boyle and Edwards
are going to let go and go under, unless
they have help."
Whiting admitted the truth of this,
but the judge was irritated by it. He
brushed the ashes from his cigar and
spoke with more of feeling than he was
accustomed to show. " Yes, I know there's
a lot o' such fellows, cussin' the country,
JASON EDWARDS. 103
but what could they expect? Come out
here expecting to find free land laying
around loose. A man can't start in a new
country without money."
"Where else could he start better?"
inquired Frank, winking at Whiting. "I
thought the West was just the place for a
poor man."
The judge whirled about impatiently.
"That's nothing to do with it. As I told
Edwards when he first came, first man on
the spot rakes the persimmons you can
take your choice, go thirty miles from a
railroad and get government land, or give
me ten dollars an acre for my land. It
was his own choice."
Frank whistled softly to himself, and
at last said, "A man once jumped over
board because he wanted to. It was a
free choice only the ship was on fire
that's about as much free choice as
Edwards had."
"That's none o' my business," said the
judge, resuming work. " I sell."
"It's almighty hard lines for Edwards,"
Frank went on. " His crops haven't been
104 JASON EDWARDS.
anything extra, and he's in a hole. All
that keeps 'em from going under is that
girl. She manages to pay grocery bills
with her teaching."
"Fine woman!" observed the judge,
with mild interest. " By the way, do you
know anything about her Boston dude?"
"Not much somebody said he was com
ing out Nasby Blume, T guess. There's
nothing like being postmaster to know all
about such things. Nasby says they write
a good deal."
"Has the fellow ever been out here?"
"I don't think he has. I never saw
him."
They all fell silent again, after the man
ner of sleepy men on a drowsy day, the
judge scratching away slowly on his paper,
Frank gazing out of the window. A hen
began to cackle. "Say, Judge, you'd bet
ter throttle that hen sounds too pasto
ral takes the wire-edge off your street
car talk." The judge wrote on calmly.
Presently a tall old man in a faded plug
hat and a linen duster came along the side
walk, met another somewhat younger man,
JASON EDWARDS. 105
a farmer-like person, with an old slouch
hat and a long, ragged beard. He had a
rake on his shoulder, and a white jug in
his hand.
"How air yeh, Daddy?" he said, greet
ing the old man in a jocular voice. "How
is this for high?"
"Purty high," answered Daddy Ruble.
" Purty high ! How's the crops ? "
"Purty dry, purty dry!"
"Purty tuff on the farmers," went on
Ruble in a high-keyed voice, as they seated
themselves on a bench just outside the
door, and under the window. The back of
their heads showed comically just above
the window-sill.
Frank laughed and winked at Whiting.
"Sh! There'll be music. They'll fight
they always do."
"'Yes, 'specially with sugar-trusts a
boomin' sugar s' high yeh can't touch it
with a ten-foot pole," Johnson went on,
"an' coal kings reg'latin' the price o' coal
come winter. This administration"
"Now go on," flared Daddy. "Go on!
Lay the weather to the administration.
106 JASON EDWARDS.
'Course it's the fault o' the administration
everything can be laid to the"
"Wai! It 'd help us pull through if the
administration would let sugar in free "
"Oh, go on go on!" shrieked Ruble,
leaping up in a frenzy.
"Oh, I'm a goin' on don't worry,"
answered Johnson coolly. "Where's the
boom we was goin' to see when this
ad "
"You'd lay the hot wind to the adminis
tration, I believe, you old fool ! "
"Se' down set down, Daddy! Don't
tear y'r shirt. You'll live jest as long."
With some difficulty Daddy was induced
to sit down, and the wagging of their heads
went on, though their words were inaudible.
The judge paid no attention, but Frank
was shaking with laughter. "See them
two old seeds," he whispered tragically to
Whiting. " They think they run Congress,
and they neither of 'em know Jack
son's dead. Now listen ! Johnson'll wind
Ruble up. He always does. Let her go,
Gallagher!"
Johnson's voice, rising above the other
JASON EDWARDS. 107
man's murmur, could be heard, " What
I'm saying is this we don't get no pro
tection on our wheat, an' too dum much
on our sugar. I don't believe in no such
scheme"
" Shut up, you ol' copper-head ! " shouted
Euble, shaking his trembling fist in John
son's face. "You don't know beans,
you"
"Set down, you ol' jackass, an' talk
sense. When I corner yeh, y' alwiz go
off"
"I ain't a goin' off! Y' can't corner
nawthin' I'm goin' to stay right here,"
shrieked Ruble.
Once more Johnson got him to sit down,
while he poured poison into his ear.
Frank, convulsed with laughter, silently
went to the wall and pretended to crank
each of them up. Their voices grew angry
and loud again, and Euble sprang up,
unable to contain himself.
"There! I jest callated you'd get to
that dum taxation scheme finally! I
won't listen I won't hear a word!"
"Set down! Don't go off half-cocked!"
108 JASON EDWARDS.
roared Johnson. "You've got to listen.
Set down and take y'r medicine like a
man you old land-shark!"
"No more a land-shark 'n you be,"
snarled the frenzied old loafer
"Less see if you haint. What're yeh
holdin' them lots for?"
"F'r a higher price. Ain't that all
right? Ain't that my business?"
"I don't know whether 'tis or not."
"Wai, I do."
"No, y' don't. You'll find out the asses
sor '11 have sum thin' t' say about that.
Now, don't git in a sweat. Wha'd yeh
pay fr them lots?"
"None o' y'r business fifty dollars."
"Wha'd yeh sell one f'r t'other day?"
"Seven hundred; but whose business"
"Now listen," grinned Frank. "John
son's goin' t' rip 'im up the back with the
single-tax idea see his game?"
"Did you make it worth that money?"
Johnson was demanding. "Did you ever
lay a hand to them lots ? Ain't you reapin'
where you haint sowed, you infernal old
sponge?"
JASON EDWARDS. 109
"Don't you call me a sponge," cried
Ruble, raising his cane. Frank stepped to
the door to stop them.
"That's jest what you are," roared John
son, also rising. "An' if we don't make
you sell or use them lots this year, call me
a sucker!"
"You're a dumned old alliance crank!"
"That's what I am. An' you can't set
around here on your pants an' get rich out
o' honest men"
Ruble was about to strike him, when
Frank, weak with laughter, but outwardly
calm, called out
"Hold on, there! No fighting allowed
on the grounds. Daddy, if you can't keep
your whipple-tree off the wheel, don't kick
over the tongue. Gentlemen, both, allow
me to say that Jackson is dead, and that
the cruel war is over. In the words of our
immortal general, 'let's have peace'."
As Johnson turned to go, he slyly swung
the tail of his rake around and knocked
Daddy's hat into the gutter, and scrambled
wildly away with shouts of laughter, while
Daddy sputtered and Frank laughed. And
110 JASON EDWARDS.
then, as if an echo of his voice, came a
penetrating, powerful peal of laughter, fol
lowed by others, in rhythms like the drum
ming of a partridge an irresistible chorus.
" Hello ! " said Frank. " Happy Elliott's
in town no discount on that laugh."
Elliott came to the door, and bracing
his hands against the door-frame, looked in
and laughed. He was a fat man with a
red face and sandy whiskers.
"Hello, you old porpus!" said Frank,
as he sat down again. "How do you
stand the heat?"
"Purty nigh unsolders me," answered
Elliott. "Hello, Judge. Judge always
looks to me like a red-headed, slick-bel
lied oF spider waitin' f'r flies." Elliott
chuckled till he was forced to sit down on
the door-sill and mop his face.
"Sweat some these days?" asked Frank.
"Bout 'nough t' keep me from season-
checkin'. How goes it?"
"First rate. How are you?"
"All broke up on my wheat."
"You look it," put in the judge.
Elliott looked at him comically. "All
JASON EDWARDS. Ill
that keeps me alive is the hope o' dyin'
some day, an' goin' t' heaven an' bein'
able to let down chunks of ice at a thou
sand dollars a pound to cool the judge
below."
" He looks cool and sweet now."
"Yes; nothin' like holdin' the money
end of a morgidge eh, Judge?"
"No, except holding two," the judge
replied coolly, going on with his work.
Elliott looked at him admiringly. " Ain't
he a daisy ! Ain't he a tulip ! While me
an' Edwards are worried t' death over the
crops, the judge sits here, cool as a toad in
a cellar, and harvests his interest slick's
a cat can lick her ear."
"Nothin' like it," said the judge.
"Has he got a heart?" asked Elliott,
after a pause.
"Who? Judge? Naw! His heart's
only a little hydraulic ram?"
Elliott roared till he nearly fell to the
floor with exhaustion. The judge calmly
worked away.
"Think o' the judge up to his neck in
brimstone an' prayin' f'r ice
112 JASON EDWARDS.
"There's a boomin' oP boomer
On the lake below,
Oh, how I long to see that day ;
Up to his neck in the brimstone flood,
Oh, how I long to see ! "
sang Frank, and Elliott joined in.
" Judgment, judgment, judgment day is a sailin'
around,"
" Wall, this won't buy the baby a shirt,
n'r pay f'r the one it has got," said Elliott,
rising and going out. "Keep an eye on
him."
"Elliott sheds trouble like punkins off a
hay-stack," said Whiting.
"His laugh's as good as a brass-band,"
replied Frank. "Everybody's got to keep
step.
And then a silence fell on them. The
flies buzzed and butted their heads at the
window. The crickets and grasshoppers
kept a steady buzz, and the wind wan
dered listlessly through the room, scarcely
adding coolness to the air. At last Frank
yawned
JASON EDWARDS. 113
"Well, this won't do f r me." He rose,
and going to the door, looked down the
street. "This is the deadest day I ever
saw in Boomtown Great Caesar's ghost!"
he yelled suddenly.
The judge languidly looked over his
shoulder, and asked listlessly
"Dog-fight?"
"A plug hat!"
"No!"
"A tailor-made suit"
"No, I say," yelled the judge, in great
excitement.
"It can't be!"
"It is!"
" Where, f 'r heaven's sake ! "
"'Just come out of the Sherman house.
Coming this way!"
They made a rush for the door, where
all three struggled together to look out.
"He's aimin' fr here, Judge."
"He's a tenderfoot, sure."
"Nail him, Judge."
"You may trust me. Watch me?"
114 JASON EDWARDS.
II.
DEEVES had never been out to see
1 * Alice and her people, and for several
reasons. In the first place, his duties as
editor were very binding, allowing him
only two weeks' vacation, and beside, he
wanted the invitation to come from Alice,
and he fully expected her "foolish, morbid
pride" to give way. So he waited.
She wrote very regularly, but coldly
and formally. She hoped each year that
"crops would be better", or "prices higher",
and avoided a discussion of their life prob
lem. She asked of the concerts and lec
tures and theatres, and he sent her books
and magazines, and so year after year
went by, very swiftly with him, as with
most busy men and neither of them had
made any decisive movement.
JASON EDWARDS. 115
There were times when he almost deter
mined to give her up. He had brought
his mother from the old town in which he
was born, and they lived in his fine cottage
in Meadow View lived very quietly. In
his study, which he allowed few of his
friends to enter, he had a life-size portrait
of Alice, just before him as he sat at his
desk. It would be betraying a confidence
to say how many hours, he sat looking into
those wistful eyes, that affected him as
some of the songs of Schumann did pro
ducing a sadness of exquisite pleasure.
Jerome Austin said to him one day,
"Most extraordinary case of my experi
ence. (Jerome had painted the picture.)
"Quite like the poems we read. Why,
man, such constancy doth amaze me ! Go
forth into the world it is full of women,
and women are flesh and blood and appre
hensive. Still, I don't deny," he mused
thoughtfully, stepping back to admire the
picture, " there is something extraordinary
about that face. It's got what we paint
ers call character in it. I wish she was
here"
116 JASON EDWARDS.
"So do I," said Reeves smilingly.
"So I could paint her from life. I
remember her color was very delicate, but
I can't recall just how it played in the
cheek and chin."
Reeves used to sit in his study with her
latest letter in his hand, and wonder, and
go over and over the problem.
"It's of no use to say her feeling is mor
bid and her pride mistaken/' he said once
to his mother, a quiet, refined woman of
feeble health, "the feeling exists, and I
don't see any hope of her yielding as long
as she feels it her duty to stay with her
parents. There is nothing to do but to
wait."
"But, Walter, I want to see you have a
wife to take care of you when I am gone.
I don't know whether you ought to con
sider yourself bound to her or not"
"That's hardly the way to put it,
mother," he said, smiling a little. "I
couldn't forget her if I tried. I don't
want to be released I don't want any
other woman I want her. You"
"I don't see what there is"
JASON EDWARDS. 117
"That's because you didn't see her,
mother. Love may be a habit it's my
habit to think of her."
"Well, I'm sure you need some one to
look after you and I'm getting old"
"There, mother, now don't talk that
way. Why, you're as pretty as a peach,
and spry why, you are as spry as I am,
yet."
It was, however, the death of his mother,
that decided him to make a visit to the
prairie and bring Alice back with him.
He didn't put it otherwise she must
come back with him. Life was unbearable
in his empty house, and his heart went
out in an irresistible impulse toward that
womanly girl on the far prairie.
He determined to take her by surprise,
but relented at the last moment, and sent
a letter to apprise her of his coming.
When he left Meadow View, the trees were
in fullest leaf, the birds were rioting in
the mid-summer madness of song, and all
along the way to Chicago and beyond he
saw the same luxuriance.
He saw vast fields of broad-leaved corn,
118 JASON EDWARDS.
tossing in the brisk wind like an army's
flashing spears. The bob-o-links soared
and tinkled, the hawks swam in the lazy
air, the mowing-machines clattered through
the thick grass, and here and there around
a field of rye or barley a reaper was going,
its reel-blades flashing like swords in the sun.
On the afternoon of the third day his
heart began to grow oppressed with the
level landscape of Western Minnesota. As
the railway left the Minnesota woods and
lakes and struck out on the wide prairie,
dotted here and there with small white
cottages, he began to wonder if Edwards
had settled in a land like that; could his
house be so lone as that ? Night settled
down over him while the train pushed into
the lonely land.
It was seven o'clock in the morning
when the car came to a stand, and from
his berth in the sleeper he heard the voices
of men as they tumbled trunks out of the
baggage car. He knew that this was his
destination, and hastily making his toilet,
he stepped out on the platform, and looked
upon Boomtown and its famous valley.
JASON EDWARDS. 119
He saw one main street dividing in half
what looked like a miscellaneous heap
of wooden houses, with here and there
an ambitious brick building or church-
spire rising from the crowd. The streets
stretched away toward an endless sea-like
infinity of plain. And when he turned
and looked in the opposite direction it was
the same level, variegated expanse. The
line of telegraph poles ran straight as a
rifle barrel till the curve of the earth hid
them from sight. It was warm, and the
sky was perfectly cloudless.
By the time he had washed the dust and
grime from his person and got his break
fast, it was nine o'clock, and he started to
find the Edwards family. That was his
main task incidentally the town inter
ested him. At last he was recommended
to Judge Balser's as a good place to secure
information.
As he neared the door the judge walked
briskly over to a big book which lay on a
sort of shelf-desk, and was busily talking
as Reeves entered.
"No, Graham, I can't let you have that
120 JASON EDWARDS.
lot at any such figure," he said, turning
and nodding carelessly at Keeves. "How
de do! How de do! Take a seat be
with you in a few minutes. No, it's worth
a thousand dollars, if it's worth a cent," he
went on to Frank, who was nearly suffo
cating with laughter.
At this moment the telephone bell rang,
and the judge went to it.
" Hello ! Sherman House ? Oh, it's you,
Billy. No. Seventeen? All sold, Billy
awfully sorry I say I'm sorry, but the
Standard Oil Company wanted the whole
biz. What? Oh, three thousand for the
unbroken lot. I don't know put up a
warehouse, I believe. I say is Godfrey
there ? Godfrey ! Graham has just offered
seven-fifty for the lot on number sixteen
better sell nine hundred, eh? All right.
Good-by!"
The judge hung the receiver on its
hooks, and turned to Graham. "I hate to
sell the lot at that figure. It's worth more
money. Can't I suit you with another
lot?"
"No; I wanted that identical lot/' said
JASON EDWARDS. 121
Frank, gravely. "I don't want a lot om
the north side at any price."
The bell rang again, and the judge said,
"You'll excuse me, won't you?"
Reeves had a suspicion that they thought
him a tenderfoot, so assumed the latest
London accent for their benefit.
" Certainly. Don't allow me to intef eah
with your business. Ai just dropped"
Judge at the telephone " Sherman
House? All right. Hold on a minute.
Graham, look up number fourteen there,
will you ? I think that's a corner lot."
Frank went to the book where the plots
were kept.
"Yes, one lot."
"Say, Frank," said the judge in a low
voice, "what's going on at the Sherman
House ? They's some nigger in the fence.
Can't be they've got wind of the railroad
deal"
The bell rang sharply.
' " Wait a minute, can't you ? Hello !
Yes, I can let you have one lot. Can't
say now. Call me up again in a few
minutes. Good-by! I'll just call up the
122 JASON EDWARDS.
Major and see what's in the wind/' the
judge said to Frank, who was studying
Keeves carefully.
"Hello! Gimme the Spike office. Hello!
Major? Say, Major, what's the news from
Hall? What! You don't say! Good!
I'm onto their little scheme."
As the judge sat down to his desk to
write, Keeves said with an affected drawl,
"Business is rawther brisk, ai take it."
"Oh, pretty fair," the judge replied care
lessly. "But I've some dandy bargains."
" Ai just dropped in to awsk if you could
get me"
"Certainly get you anything," said
the judge, rising and getting the book and
placing it on Keeves' knees. " Now, there's
a lot on nine that's dirt cheap at a thou
sand dollars. It's a jim dandy! Bound to
be worth two thousand dollars before snow
flies."
"You don't siy!" exclaimed Reeves.
" I do," replied the judge.
" "What's going to maike it worth so
much?"
"Why, the boom in this town. Look at
JASON EDWARDS. 123
the lines of road seven, and a new one
being graded, will be ironed before snow
flies. And then there's the plow factory,
capital one hundred thousand dollars
and grist-mill"
"And the twine factory," put in Frank.
"That's so," exclaimed the judge, with
unusual enthusiasm. "One o' the biggest
schemes in the North-west. Millions o'
tons o' flax burned every year, millions o'
pounds o' twine bought every year. Now
a stock company has been formed will
put up works costing seven hundred and
fifty thousand dollars"
"Very intristing, indeed. But I fawn-
cied you'd be ible to tell me abeout this
timber-clime mattah. Ai bought a clime
of a felleh a shawt time since, deon't you
know, an' when ai saw it to-diy, it hadn't
a tree in sight!"
Frank found this a splendid chance to
explode in laughter, but the judge remained
calm.
"A timber claim, my dear sir, is not a
claim with trees on it, but a claim on
which the government wants trees put."
124 JASON EDWARDS.
"Yeou deon't saiy!" stared Reeves.
"Oh, yes, that's just what I say."
"But the felleh said the timber would
be immensely valuable."
" So it will, fifty years from now, when
it has had a chance to grow," laughed
Frank.
"Then, according to that, you think
I'm done," said Reeves, with a kind of
reproachful look at Frank.
"Done brown no mistake."
Reeves looked mildly fierce.
" Oh, deah ! How I should like to meet
that felleh agine for one brief moment ! "
"You wouldn't hurt him!"
"I'd punch his bloody head?"
"Oh, that would be cruel! You ought
to keep your 'valley' on hand to protect
you."
"What do you mean by that?"
"English, I take it?" '
"But wdon't yeou tell me heow you
knew, please?"
"Each hair o' your head proclaims it,"
said the judge.
" Yeou deon't saiy ! "
JASON EDWARDS. 125
"Oh, yes, I'd gamble on that twist in
your tongue. Now, see me get you out
of this scrape," he went on with a fine
assumption of friendly concern. "You'd
better invest right here in Boomtown.
I've got a lot here that I've been saving
for a friend of mine, but he's lately died,
and that leaves the lot on my hands. It's
worth a thousand dollars to-day, but I'll
sell for seven-fifty. It's bound to go up
to fifteen hundred."
"Very kind of you but what's going
to make it go up as you saiy?"
"Why, the boom on the town. The
people coming in the scarcity of land
see?"
" But there isn't a scarcity of land. Bai
George ! I never saw so much land in all
my life deon't yeou know? And yet you
charge such prices. Ai thought this was
a free-land stite."
"Oh, that's one of the things we print,"
said Frank gravely, "to bring people out
here. It's free for so much see?"
Reeves dropped his assumed character.
" Yes, I see ! I see that and a good deal
126 JASON EDWARDS.
more. I see that you are all a set o'
boomers, and flourish at the expense of the
real workers of this territory. You can't
give me any points on that kind o' thing.
I'm a single-tax man."
Frank leaped up with a shout
" What ! You ! Lookin' as you do ? "
"Looking as I do/' responded Keeves,
coolly. "See how my hair stands up?
I've seen the cat."
Frank seized his hand in a transport of
friendliness. (The judge took his hat and
slipped out.) " So've I. Gimme y'r hand."
They shook and kept shaking. "You look
like a dude, but you've got the grip of a
man. I don't know where you come from,
but I know where you'll go to thunder
and blue mud! Why didn't y' say so
before? Goin' to stop long in town?"
"Several days."
"Visitin' friends?"
"Yes the Edwards family."
Frank gave a whistle of sudden intelli
gence. "Oh, I see. Certainly. You're
that man from Boston!" Here he seized
him by the hand again with a return of
JASON EDWARDS. 127
fraternal good-will. " Success to yeh, com
rade she's a bonanza!"
"Thank you," smiled Reeves.
"Oh, I know! Prospected round there
myself till I saw 'twant no use. Claim
pre-empted. Case of monopoly. See?
Say, looky here ! Send your things right
over to my house not a word got to be
did. I keep open house to single-taxers "
" Well, if you insist "
"I do insist."
"Well, all. right. I'll just ring up the
Sherman House and have my valises sent
right over to your house"
As Reeves went to the telephone, Frank
nearly smothered in laughter, but man
aged to say
"I would, if I were you."
Reeves turned the crank, but no bell
responded turned twice or thrice
"What do you call this thing?"
"A coffee-mill," shrieked Frank.
Reeves ground it once more
"Well, so should I."
"Oh, let up on that," exploded Frank.
"That's only one o' the judge's little
128 JASON EDWARDS.
schemes to rope in tenderfeet. But never
mind I'll send a boy around."
Reeves looked at the transmitter, then
at Frank, wide-mouthed with laughter.
"Now look here! You don't mean to
say that telephoning was all bogus?"
"That's what it was. There's a button
under the desk there that rings the bell"
here he pushed the button.
Reeves sank into a chair exhausted.
" Well, for ways that are dark and tricks
that are vain ! The Western land-shark is
peculiar."
"Almost equal to the stock-gamblers
and Congressmen in the East," chipped in
the Westerner. "Well, how goes every
thing in Boston anyway ? By the way, I
don't know your name don't make any
difference a little handier, that's all"
"Reeves Walter Reeves, Daily Events!'
"My name's Graham Frank Graham.
Now, don't worry about your things. I'll
see that you have 'em. Old man, if I
wasn't a married man, that girl of yours
but let that pass. I congratulate you
and her."
JASON EDWARDS. 129
" Can you tell me how things are going
with them?"
"Yes they're going pretty bad, as
they are with most American farmers."
"In what way?"
"In all ways."
"Are they in want?"
"Well, they're poor enough. But that
girl! Well, she's the main-stay of the
family. She's all that keeps 'em up. Old
man, why don't you step in there an' give
'em all a lift eh? Excuse I can't
help"
"I wanted to, years ago before they
ever thought of coming West."
"And she objected?"
"She objected."
"Why?"
"Oh a sort of pride a"
"I see obstinacy, we'd call it out
here."
"No, it ain't that. Edwards is one of
those men who'd die in the harness before
he'd give up, and she's a good deal of the
same spirit she hates to give up."
"Well, all is old man if you don't
130 JASON EDWARDS.
help, or the Lord don't give us a good rain
soon, they'll go under the wheel, sure as
shootin'."
"Did Edwards buy or"
"Bought and mortgaged, of course.
There wasn't any free land within forty
miles of the railroad. Judge here has
charge of the affairs of a banking estab
lishment that holds, I suppose, five hundred
mortgages in this country."
"By the way, didn't I see the judge's
name signed to a defiant article directed at
the Eastern press, denying the poverty of
the West?"
"Yes, that was our Balser. All the
names on that list were either bankers or
land-holders."
Keeves grew bitter.
"With seventy per cent, of your farms
mortgaged, those men have the nerve to
send out a paper like that. I begin to think
that you are the worst cursed part of our
whole nation.
"Oh, not so bad as that I'll come back
East and study you some day and see but
here comes my wife to call me to dinner."
JASON EDWARDS. 131
A very pretty girl, looking almost child
ish in her wide hat and simple calico dress,
came to the door.
"Frank, the dinner is all drying up it
won't be fit to eat ! "
" I'm sorry, for we're going to have some
company. My wife, brother Reeves."
"Oh, Frank Graham!" scolded the dis
turbed wife. "How can you bring people
home when I've nothing to eat ! "
"Don't worry," said Frank, winking at
Reeves. "I'll take a can of Boston baked
beans under my arm if he don't have
his valise full."
As they went merrily off up the side
walk, past the sleepy clerks under the awn
ings, Judge Balser came out of the Sherman
House, with a genuine customer whom he
had found in the bar-room. He gave a fur
tive look around the office as he came in
"Oh, the quiet is natural just before the
harvest. People are getting machinery
out ready for harvest. We have it every
year. That's all the better f'r you. That
lot at seven hundred and fifty dollars is
sure to go to a thousand by September.
132 JASON EDWAEDS.
m.
IT was hot in the town, it was frightful
on the prairie, bare of trees as a desert.
The eyes found no place to rest from the
hot, brazen glare of everything the grass,
the grain, the sky. There was absolutely
no fresh green thing to be seen, no cool
glint of water, no pleasant shade only a
radiant, mocking, sinister sky, flecked with
the white bodies of the gulls that rose and
fell, swooped and circled in the blazing air.
The farmers toiled at their scanty crops of
hay, and eyed the sky with prayers and
curses alternating on their lips. Every
year at this same date those blighting
winds had blown.
Bare on the immense plain stood the
small unpainted wooden shanties, unshaded
and unsheltered, the sun beating down
upon them with the same merciless sever-
JASON EDWARDS. 133
ity the mariners tell of in the tropic seas.
Like a boat becalmed on a russet sea, each
little hut parched and cracked and grew
odorous in the terrific heat.
The wind was rising, but it had no
moisture in it, no coolness; it was like the
wind from a furnace. It appalled the
stranger, and even to those familiar with
it, it brought terror. As the men stopped
in the fields and leaned on their forks and
turned their throbbing faces to its sweep,
it brought small relief.
Many men quit work, or failed to go out
at all after dinner. The windows and
doors of every shanty were open to allow
the wind to pass through. In the shadow
of the barn or hay-stack the fowls lay
panting with open beaks, or sidled against
the wind to the well to look for a drink of
water to cool their parching throats.
The Edwards homestead looked like the
rest a small frame shanty, shelterless on
a slight swell, beaten upon by the noon
day sun. It was composed of two parts,
the upright being sixteen by twenty-four,
and a story and a half high, while at the
134 JASON EDWARDS.
side, serving as a kitchen, was a box-like
shanty which had been their home for the
first eighteen months. It was already
gray with the weather.
Surrounding the house were signs of a
garden, but plants and shrubs withered
and dry pained the eye with their evident
suffering. A low stable and a few sheds
stood back of the house. Not a tree or
shrub tall enough to hide a child was in
sight.
At about two o'clock a young woman
came out of the house and took a seat in
the scanty shade of the house, beside a
small stand, and began sewing. As she
worked, she looked often across the prairie
toward the distant Boomtown weird and
insubstantial in the mist.
It was Alice Edwards, worn and weary,
and looking ten years older. She was
always womanly, but now she was grave
and almost stern. She was plainly look
ing for some one, and her eyes scanned the
prairie with painful intentness. A girlish
voice was to be heard, singing to the
accompaniment of a piano, a rhythmical
JASON EDWARDS. 135
negro melody. It ceased at length and
Linnie came out.
"My goodness! Ain't it hot? I hope
mother won't try to come home till
after supper. It's ninety-eight in the
shade. Do you suppose he got in last
night?"
"I don't know," replied Alice wearily.
"I've looked so long across this endless
prairie that my eyes ache. Come and
look," she said, rising. "Is there a team
coming? Don't that look like a carriage
there? Just rising that swell by Peter
son's house?"
Linnie looked leisurely and critically
from under her hand.
" Yup a top-buggy, sure."
"Oh, if it shouldn't be Walter, Linnie,
I should sink with disappointment. See
how plain the team can be seen now I
know it is Walter. His letter said he'd
get in yesterday. How silently and how
swiftly it comes! Oh, the plain!" she
cried with a voice of utter weariness.
"It's so lonesome! There is no place so
dreary to wait and watch in! It is so piti-
136 JASON EDWARDS.
less, so beautiful but so impassive like
a dead sea. It crushes me."
"I'm sick of it, too. It's almost as bad
as living in Pleasant Street, ain't it?"
"Almost not quite."
"I don't know," said Linnie musingly.
"I wisht I could hear the little German
band that used to play down by McBreen's
saloon on the corner, an' see the circus
parades, an* the boys' regiment. A mon
key and a hand-organ would be just gor
geous out here. Oh, I'm sick an' tired of
the hot, lonesome prairie I wish that
team'd hurry up," she grumbled, looking
away. "I don't know which I'd ruther
die of lonesomeness, 'r starve to death in
a crowd."
Alice was not listening; her hands had
fallen to her lap. "I think it must be
Walter he's at the second moggason
now."
" What ye goin' t' do if 'tis him?"
"Oh, I don't know I don't know!"
"I know what I'd do. I wish I had a
Boston editor that wanted to marry me.
You bet I'd let him."
JASON EDWARDS. 137
"Linnie, what do you mean?"
"Mean what I say," said Linnie stur
dily. "I'd ruther die an old maid in Bos
ton than have forty husbands out here/'
she concluded with much decision.
Alice rose and walked about uneasily.
She was tense with excitement, and her
hands clasped and unclasped themselves
constantly.
" I wish I knew"
"I wish I did but I don't," put in the
practical Linnie. " He's a drivin' f 'r all in
sight, whoever he is. He's gettin' there!
I hope he won't stay to supper, whoever he
is," she added after a pause. "It's too
hot for company. It's awful on the wheat.
Father's just about crazy. See him down
there ? He don't do nothin' else but walk
around and look at that wheat."
Alice started to go in, but Linnie stopped
her by saying :
"Ain't yeh goin' to wait an' see who
'tis?"
"No, I must go in; I can't stand here
and stare at him as he comes. I I"
"Well, I can. I'm goin' to stay right
138 JASON EDWAKDS.
here and see who it is. Beaux are too
scarce these times to lose sight 'o one. It
may be Frank Graham. Say, Allie, here
comes poppa after a jug o' water."
Alice turned with a new concern in her
face. "Oh, don't say anything to him
about Walter's coming, will you, dear? I
don't want to trouble him if I can help
it. And I want to see Walter alone, if
possible."
"All right!" nodded Linnie, with her
eyes on the approaching carriage.
Jason Edwards came in with a water-jug
in his hands, and proceeded to fill it from
the water bucket which Linnie raised from
the well.
"How's the hayin' to-day, poppa."
"Tumble hot."
" Poor poppa ! Why don't you come an*
sit down here in the shade?"
Edwards took off his torn straw hat and
wiped his face with his sleeve. He was
much grayer, and was bent and lame.
"They ain't no rest f'r me. If I should
set around in the shade, my girl wouldn't
have any home when winter came. Rain
JASON EDWARDS. 139
'r shine, wet 'r dry, I've got to keep movin'.
Where's mother?"
"Over to Mrs. Elliott's."
"Where's Allie?"
"She's in the house layin' down. She
don't seem very well to-day."
Edwards sighed deeply. "Poor girl!
She ought 'o stayed in Boston; but it 'ud
'a' killed mother an' me. I don't see how
we could 'a' pulled through without her."
He took up his jug to go, and scanned
the horizon closely. He was pathetic
almost to the point of being tragic as he
stood there. His coarse shirt was open at
the throat, his whiskers, much whitened,
were wet with sweat. His face was
flushed in a way that would have startled
an experienced eye. His hand trembled
with fatigue, and his poor, patient eyes
were dim with sweat.
The girl saw a little of the infinite
pathos in his face and figure, and she went
up to him.
"Poor dear old poppa! How hard you
work ! I wish I was a boy so I could help
you."
140 JASON EDWARDS.
Edwards felt the comfort in her voice,
and turned and put his arm over her shoul
der, pressing her face to his side.
"You can help me more this way," he
said. "Poor little sweetheart, growin'
up here without schooling without com
pany oh, it's awful!"
"Never mind, poppa never mind. It
ain't so bad. Allie teaches me, and I go to
school summer-terms, anyway."
Edwards looked at the sky. " Seems as
if it gets hotter every minute."
"Don't work too hard you'll get a sun
stroke," warned Linnie.
"If it would only rain," he groaned.
"But it won't. They ain't no rain left in
the sky. Oh, God ! What can I do ! "
Linnie burst out in tears as he staggered
rather than walked off toward the field
but as she heard the trample of hoofs, her
face cleared, and she cried
"Allie, Allie! It is Walter. No other
man would ever wear a plug-hat out in
this wind."
Then she seated herself coolly on the
door-step and awaited his approach, with
JASON EDWARDS. 141
her chin in her hands and her eyes fixed on
him.
Eeeves drove up to the post near the
well, and leaped out. After hitching one
of the horses with trembling hands, he
came up the slope toward the door.
"Is Miss Edwards"
Alice came to the door. For a moment
they looked into each other's faces, as if to
read all intervening history, then Eeeves
opened his arms.
"Alice!" he cried.
And she came to his arms. After a
moment's silence, Eeeves raised her face.
"What! Crying? I thought you'd
laugh oh, it's your guilty conscience!"
Then more gravely, as he saw the
change in her
"My sweetheart that face is sad, tired
life out here is killing you."
Alice tried to smile.
" Oh, no ; we women cry when we're
pleased and"
"Laugh when you're angry"
"Oh, Walter I've looked forward so
long to seeing you! I've watched the road
10
142 JASON EDWARDS.
for days and days, and counted the
hours it was so lonely here!"
"Your letters didn't read so/' said Wal
ter quizzically, as he led her to the chair.
" They were cold and formal enough, I can
tell you that."
"I didn't dare write my real self."
"Why not?"
"Oh, because because I was afraid"
"Afraid I'd come and get you eh?"
"Don't ask me to explain now tell
me all about yourself; but first let me get
you a glass of lemonade, you must be
thirsty."
Reeves gazed at her fondly.
"Yes thirsty for the sight of you."
Alice, flushed and smiling, went into the
house, calling Linnie, who had promptly
and considerately disappeared. Reeves got
up and walked about, eying the plain
keenly.
"So this is the reality of the dream!
This is the < homestead in the Golden West,
embowered in trees, beside the purling
brook ! ' A shanty on a barren plain, hot
and lone as a desert. My God ! What a
JASON EDWARDS. 143
place for her my beautiful girl for any
body's girl! A wide-walled grave, arched
by a mocking, sinister sky"
Alice entered with a glass of lemonade,
and as he took it he said, "In a land like
this the sight of water must mean as it does
with the Arabs the highest hospitality."
Reeves looked older. Gray had come
into his hair at the temples, and his sunny
smile was less frequent. Alice studied
him with hungry eyes. " Oh, I'm so glad
to see you, I can't say"
"Don't try," interrupted he, putting his
arm about her. "I'll say enough for
two. What in the world is that child
doing with my team?" he exclaimed, look
ing over the well-curb. "She's unhitching
them! She'll have a runaway"
He ran down to where Linnie was at
work preparing to put the horses in the
barn.
Alice was thinking distractedly. "How
can I let him go again! But I must, I
must. I can't leave my father now."
Walter came back with Linnie on his
arm.
144 JASON EDWARDS.
"Why, you're a regular little horse-
jockey, ain't you?"
Linnie laughed.
"That's nothin'! Allie and I hitch up
and drive the plow-teams, and I drive the
mower and reaper, don't I, Allie?"
"Do you do that?" asked Reeves in
grave surprise. "With this hand?" he
added, taking her hand and stroking it.
"You don't seem to mind about my
hand," pouted Linnie, as she entered the
house. "I don't count."
"Not yet," smiled Reeves. Then turn
ing to Alice, he said, as if he could not
believe it
"And you live in that den?"
"Yes," said Alice simply, "with my
people."
"All through your horrible weather?"
"Yes, and there are the days when
it seems like a palace. Days and days
we can't leave the house. Last winter
it seemed as if the snow would never
rest."
Reeves was horrified. " What a prison !
And yet I saw a dozen not so good as I
JASON EDWARDS. 145
came along the road. With all this bound
less space you are living as closely as in
your rooms on Pleasant Street."
"We lived in that shanty-part a year
and a half."
" And this is the free and glorious West ! "
cried Reeves, lifting his head. "And you
have lived all these years in that hole
rather than with me in a home! Oh, it
makes me wild to think of it!"
"There was no other way," replied Alice
simply. " They couldn't live without me.
My teaching here has kept us in groceries
and there have been days and weeks
when father was too lame to take care of
the cattle, and I have done it."
Reeves seized her hands.
"Don't tell me any more I'll rage
I'll swear I can't stand it!"
"We must bear it."
" Bear it ! I won't bear it. I'll expose
the whole infernal country in a four-col
umn editorial. I'll smash the next boomer
that says land to me free land! If this
is free land, what in the devil"
"Sh!" interposed Alice, putting her
146 JASON EDWARDS.
hand over his mouth but he freed him
self and went on
"If this is free land, what in the devil's
name is paying for land? You and these
families around you have purchased these
bare and miserable acres with all that
makes life worth living."
"I know it, but it only makes it worse
to know it."
"Well, forget it, then," said Reeves, as
he took her hands. "For you know what
I'm here for. I've come to take you out
of it hush, now! Let me go on. I've let
you spoil the best years of our lives, and
you sha'n't spoil any more."
He held her fast as she struggled to free
herself.
"I can't I can't I"
" You must," said Reeves, almost angrily.
" I'm master of you now."
She ceased struggling, but there was a
look in her eyes that freed her hands.
"You are not," she cried with a gesture
of repulsion. "You go too far "
"Alice, listen!" entreated Reeves. "I
didn't mean that forgive me"
JASON EDWARDS. 147
"You did you meant it. It was the
man's tone. Listen to me."
"I will listen when you talk sense,"
Eeeves impetuously went on. "I've come
for you I won't be put off. If you
refuse"
"Suppose I do what then?" asked
Alice in fine scorn.
" Then we never see each other again."
Alice was shaken by his tone, which was
one of deadly earnestness.
"There is a limit to my patience, Alice.
Be careful how you answer."
"You are the one to be careful. You
are unjust. Am I here to please myself?
You are cruel, harsh, unfeeling"
"Alice Alice!"
"It is true. Do my sufferings count for
nothing my sacrifices? I see and feel
all that you do, but I owe something to
my parents. I can't leave them here, and
I won't leave them now."
"What good has your sacrifice done?"
"See these hands," she went on, impet
uously. "You don't know half. I help
keep this home in bread. I plow, I milk
148 JASON EDWARDS.
the cows every hand is needed on the
American farm. There's no law against
child-labor or woman-labor here. But I
could bear all this, if you did not sneer
if you appreciated what I am doing."
(Reeves bowed his head under the
rebuke.)
"Walter I didn't expect that from
you!"
When Reeves spoke again, it was in a
changed voice all the anger gone out of
it. He was almost awed by her face and
voice.
"I don't mean to be hard but you for
get my side of it all. I've waited five
years and now you say wait one year
more. Another year and we may be dead.
A railway accident" she started, "a stray
bullet on the street, and I'm cheated. Oh,
Alice, Alice," he pleaded, "don't send me
back with empty hands don't do it. I
can't bear it you are sacrificing us both."
"We must wait there is no other
way." She was almost ready to give up,
but he did not see it.
"Then I know you care nothing for
JASON EDWARDS. 149
me," cried Reeves, leaping up in despairing
rage. " If you did you couldn't be so hard."
"Walter you have hurt me!" she
said, shrinking as if from a blow.
"No no; I don't mean that don't
mind me but you must not persist in
staying here. It is the law of life for
daughters to leave their parents."
Alice shook her head, her steady eyes
looking above his head. "It is not the law
of my life. The walls of the beautiful
home you offer me couldn't shut out the
memory of the sorrow and loneliness of
this home."
"Think consider!" he pleaded.
"Think!" she cried with a sudden and
thrilling passion. " Think ! I have thought
till my brain whirled. In the awful silence
of the prairie one thinks till he goes mad.
While I saw my father toiling in the burn
ing fields, my sister growing up in igno
rance, I've thought and thought I've
tried to understand my duty"
"Let me help you, dear," he said,
tenderly, approaching her. "Let me put
your father on his feet"
150 JASON EDWARDS.
"I knew you'd say that," said Alice,
with great love in her face; "but father
wouldn't consent. He never can consent
to be a burden on your charity he's too
proud. As long as he can earn enough to
shelter and feed us, he never'll submit to
be helped. When he bends he'll break.
He needs money, but he needs me more
than he needs money. Mother is no com
fort to him now, and Linnie is only a
child. No, Walter," she ended, shak
ing her head firmly, "there is no present
help for it, as I can see. Things may
change, but you must go back to your
splendid life in the city, and I must fight
my battle here." She raised her hand to
silence him "It is useless, cruel to press
me further. I have decided once for all."
"I can't submit to this folly!"
"Walter, you must!"
She faced him with a look of stern and
gloomy determination on her face. They
stood face to face in a silent battle of wills.
She, poor, morbid, unhappy girl, and he
indignant, hurt and puzzled his strength
and experience of no value to him.
JASON EDWARDS. 151
There was no yielding in her steady
eyes, and he turned with a sudden anger.
She relaxed and her eyes closed; but as
he turned she raised her head and resumed
her implacable mood. He hesitated a
moment, bowed and walked away.
She stood gazing at him till he entered
his carriage, and drove rapidly away.
Then she sank slowly into her chair and
buried her face in her arms.
152 JASON EDWARDS.
IV.
AT four o'clock the wind was still blow
ing warm from the South, but here
and there were to be seen, lying far down
around the horizon snowy thunder-heads
rising out of the sea of pink mist in which
they swam. The wind was more fitful,
too, and blew as if weary. The crick
ets, mainly silent in the middle of the
day, were singing, and the grasshoppers,
snapping and buzzing, rose and fell in the
grass like flakes of gold.
The gulls still swooped and circled in
the wind, but they were beginning to move
northward toward the lake, where they
rested at night. The wheat, as the sun
fell less powerfully upon it and as the wind
stirred it less, looked greener and less
withered though it was only in appear
ance. The leaves of the corn rolled
JASON EDWARDS. 153
together by the dry wind and beaten into
strips against each other, hung like battle-
flags after the conflict is over.
Overhead a keen eye could see the mist
from the South, faint, almost impercepti
ble, meeting the northern current and
being turned back by it. This double
motion was a dangerous sign, and many of
the men who saw it shook their heads, and
prophesied great things to come before
night. As the wind ceased, the heat to
these workers seemed more oppressive than
before.
Mrs. Edwards had just returned from
her visit. Elliott, who was out in the
road talking with a neighbor, had brought
her home. Alice was seated at the little
table one arm flung wearily across it,
and her pale face wearing a look of sorrow
that was almost despair. Linnie was
washing some potatoes in a pan.
"Linnie, girl, did you shut up the little
turkies, as I told y' to?"
"Yes, ma but you needn't think it's
goin' to rain. I believe as father does,
that it can't rain."
154 JASON EDWARDS.
"Where is he?"
"Putting up hay over there don't you
see him?"
Mrs. Edwards sighed. "Well! I guess
you'd better start a fire."
"Oh, it's too hot to start a fire. Let's
eat bread and milk to-night!"
"No; your pa ought to have a good sup
per to-night. He haint had much appetite
lately."
Alice turned to her mother.
"Mother Linnie don't tell father any
thing about Walter's being here please!
Poor poppa ! He has all he can bear now.
I don't want to burden him with my
troubles."
As Linnie went into the house, Mrs.
Edwards said, with a peculiar inflection of
placid sorrow
"I know what he wanted."
" Yes, he wanted me. He came expect
ing me to return with him."
"Poor child! I wish you could go."
"And leave you here alone!" cried
Alice, almost fiercely. " Alone, now ! And
Linnie needing me more every day. I'm
JASON EDWARDS. 155
not quite so selfish as that. But I don't
see why life should be one relentless, horri
ble struggle."
"I don't see how we'd git along why
didn't he stay an' see father?"
"Because I sent him away. I could
n't hold out much longer. Oh, mother,
mother!" cried the suffering girl, throwing
herself before her mother's feet and bury
ing her face in the faithful lap, " did I do
right?"
"I'm afraid not, Allie!" the mother
replied, stroking her hair, while the tears
fell upon it. "I'm afraid you ought 'o
gone."
"And, oh, mother, I had to send him
away angry, without a good-by. I didn't
dare to be tender to him, I was so weak.
Oh, will the night of our poverty never
lift?"
"I suppose it's the Lord's will."
"I don't," said Alice, raising her tear-
stained face. "I don't. The Lord is
good, men are bad. He never intended
that his creatures should suffer hunger and
cold."
156 JASON EDWARDS.
Mrs. Edwards was shocked.
"Allie, how can you talk so!"
" We are not living here because He
requires it of us/' the girl went on bitterly,
"but because men push us out."
"There, there, dear! Don't take on so/'
said Mrs. Edwards soothingly. As she
rose to go in, a young man's voice, clear
and joyous, could be heard far out on the
prairie
"The West, the West, the beautiful West,
I can see thee in my dreams ;
From a far-off soil my feet have pressed
I could see thy laughing streams."
"He doesn't mean our West," said Alice
bitterly, as Elliott came up to the well, jok
ing with Linnie and Mrs. Edwards. He took
a sip of water, tasted it with care, cocked
his head on one side, and at last said
gravely
"I don't see anything special in this
water. But they tell me young fellers go
four miles out of their way to get a taste
of it."
JASON EDWARDS. 157
"Now what you drivin' at tell me,"
demanded Linnie.
"I suppose they can't find the dipper
obliged to call f'r a glass. Oh, I'm on
to all these little dodges! Was young
myself"
"When?" inquired Linnie, as he stopped
to laugh.
" Oh, way back in the dark ages, when
I was on earth the first time. By the
way, Mrs. Edwards, you'd better think
twice about that offer o' mine on the
6 spark arrester'. It won't be six months
till you'll be overrun with sparks."
" What in the world you talkin' about?"
said Linnie, coming nearer him.
"Spark arrester prevents sparks from
comin' out indispensable to all mothers
of girls." He roared till he was as red
as a beet. He turned suddenly to Mrs.
Edwards "Which 'd you ruther do, die
or go a-fishing?"
"Go fishing. Oh, I long for fish," said
Mrs. Edwards, with more of real emotion
than she had shown in many a serious cri
sis. "I never lived before where there
11
158 JASON EDWARDS.
wasn't fish and lobster" (she called it lob-
steh, of course). "I'd give anything for a
good fresh lobster!"
"Lobster!" exclaimed Elliott, who was
inland born; "I'd as soon eat a t'rant'la."
Alice, who had paid little attention to
Elliott, put on her hat and said, " I'll go
call father to supper," and moved off
toward the field.
Elliott looked down the road. "Hello!
Who's this? Some thirsty souls, I guess.
I begin to see what Frank means when
he says all the trails on the prairie lead
to Jason Edwards'. f Strike a trail any
where,' he says, 'and follow it, it'll bring
you to Edwards' well." 3
A carriage drove slowly up the road and
turned in toward the well. It was Frank
Graham and Judge Balser. Frank was
leaning back in the carriage, his coat off,
his feet on the dashboard. He pulled up,
and pointing dramatically, sang
"Don't y' see de dark cloud
Risin' ober yonder?
Don't y' tink wese goin' to hab a rain ?
Oh, yes, as sure as shootin',
JASON EDWARDS. 159
See the lightnin* scooting
Sartin sure wese goin' to hab a rain."
As -he closed in a conversational voice
like a negro minstrel, he leaped out and
came forward, making a prodigious start
at seeing Elliott.
" Ett two, Brooty ! Elliott, I'm pained
I truly am ! A man of your weight in the
community. How de do, folkses Miss
Linnie, will you bring me a glass?"
"Same old trick!" yelled Elliott, scream
ing with laughter. " There's the dipper in
the bucket."
"Why, so it is!" cried Graham in vast
astonishment. "Have a drink, Judge
if you dare!"
As the judge was drinking, Alice came
back for the purpose of speaking to the
judge, and while the others were talking
and laughing at the well, she drew him
aside.
"I'd like to speak with you."
"Desire is mutual," responded the judge,
with elaborate courtesy.
"Judge, can't you be easy on father?
160 JASON EDWARDS.
Can't you let the mortgage run 1 ? I'm
afraid he'll go crazy with the worry the
crops are so bad. Oh, if you only would "
The judge replied quickly
" I should be most happy, Miss Edwards,
but you see I've nothing to do with it.
I'm merely the agent of the syndicate.
Beside, there are so many others in the
same box, and if I let one off, they'd
all"
"Then take the land!" cried Alice,
despairingly. "Don't delude us with
the idea of ownership where we're only
tenants."
"But we don't want the land," explained
the judge. "All we want is the interest.
We've got more land than we know what
to do with."
He had made it too plain. The girl's face
lifted, lit by a bitter indignant smile
"I see! It's cheaper to let us think we
own the land than it is to pay us wages.
You're right your system is perfect
and heartless. It means death to us and
all like us!" she said, as the whole truth
came upon her. " We'll be homeless again."
JASON EDWARDS. 161
She rushed away blindly, escaping the
judge's bland smile.
"Now what's the meaning of that, I
wonder," Frank Graham said to himself,
as he saw Alice go away. Elliott and Lin-
nie were scuffling.
" Go away and sit down! "
" Oh, ain't we savage ! What a fuss we
make about an arm about our waist, don't
we?"
"Elliott," said Frank severely, "such
conduct is unseemly. Come, Judge, you
infernal old land-shark, let us be getting
home before the lightning strikes you and
injures me. Elliott, come along home."
After they had all gone, Mrs. Edwards
and Linnie began setting the table outside,
in the shadow of the house it was cooler
and pleasanter. At last Mrs. Edwards
said
"Well, there! We're most ready. Can
you see y'r pa comin'?"
" Yes, here he comes with Alice."
" Well, set the tea on an' see if the p'ta-
toes are done."
Edwards had a handful of wheat in his
162 JASON EDWARDS.
hands, which he had pulled up by the roots.
It was dry and whitish-yellow in color
blighted, in short. Alice was walking by
his side, trying to cheer him up.
"It's going to rain, father, I know it is.
See the clouds gathering over there?
You'll hear the thunder-giant begin to walk
pretty soon."
"Rain! It can't rain now," replied
Edwards, with a tone of despairing bitter
ness that was terrible to hear. "Them
clouds'll pass right by, jest's they've all
done f'r the last four weeks. See that
wheat swash like water! You wouldn't
think to see it from here that it's dry as
dust, but it is. Rain ! A man might pray
and pull till his eyes dropped out, an' he
couldn't draw one cloud an inch out of the
way. We might jest as well give it up,"
he ended, flinging the handful of wheat to
the ground.
"Don't talk so, father, please don't. It
hurts us. Mother, talk to him cheer
him up," she appealed to Mrs. Edwards.
But Mrs. Edwards had reached that
stage of dumb patience which is near to
JASON EDWARDS. 163
insensibility, and her comfort was mainly
physical.
"Can't you eat sumpthin', Jason? Set
up an' have some tea. Linnie, pour him a
cup o' tea."
" Don't give up," pleaded Alice. "Let's
fight as long as we can."
" It ain't no use, Allie, m' girl. Every
thing's against us"
"But if the rain comes now"
"It can't save it. See them white spots
out there?"
"Yes, what does it mean?" asked Alice,
looking away with strained and tearful gaze.
"'It means blight. It means that every
stalk is like them" he put his foot on the
scattered straws he had thrown down.
"It means failure."
" Failure ! Is there no hope ? "
" None that I can see. We're squeezed
out ag'in. Squeezed out of the city, and
now we're squeezed out of a country of
free land I'm just about ready to quit."
"I wish I could do something to help
you. It scares me to have you fail
you've been so brave."
164 JASON EDWARDS.
"It scares me to think of my family.
There's a quarter section of wheat dry
enough to burn. A field of empty heads
empty as my hands when they should be
as heavy as my head feels. Oh, I can't
stand it. It'll make me crazy!"
He rose and walked to and fro in agony,
till Mrs. Edwards came and laid her hand
on his arm. "Come, Jason, git ready f'r
supper."
"Oh, I can't eat," he burst out. "I
don't feel as if I could eat another mouth
ful as long as I live."
"Try to eat for my sake poppa,"
she said, using the old childish name.
Edwards paused, sat down at the table, but
did not eat.
"It ain't no use at all, Jennie, children.
I've got to the end of my rope. I've lost my
last chance the great free West! Free
to starve in. I've strained ev'ry muscle
to pay f'r my free land, but when I had a
crop it wasn't worth anything, and now
there ain't enough on the whole farm to
pay interest on the mortgage, say nothin'
of other debts and expenses."
JASON EDWARDS. 165
Alice went to him, soothing him, cares
sing his gray hair. He went on, an infi
nite pathos in his voice and in the droop
of his head.
"My life is a failure I don't know
why. Don't seem 's if it was my fault.
I know it ain't yours, mother. Fifty years
of work an' here we be! I've worked
every well day of my life since I was ten
years old; we've worked early and late,
an' pinched an' saved. I never was a
drinker, we ain't had the necessities of
life rent went up an' fuel went up, an'
wages went down an' here we are."
Faint, far away was heard the boom of
thunder
"Hark!" called Linnie, leaping up and
clapping her hands "It's going to rain!"
She ran to the corner of the house to see,
and cried again, "It's going to rain, sure!"
"The world has been jest a place to
work in," Edwards went on in the same
bitter tone, "an' now I'm wore out."
"Can't we sell an' go back?" asked his
wife eagerly.
"Sell! We ain't got nothin' to sell;
166 JASON EDWARDS.
an' if we had, who'd buy it in this God
forsaken country. Jest look at it here
we've worked"
Again the thunder broke in on his voice,
unmistakably nearer. The wind had died
down. Mrs. Edwards rose, like the care
ful housewife she was
"It's goin' to rain I must go an' see
that the windows are shet."
The sun was already veiled by the rag
ged edges of the rushing cloud wide,
horizon-grasping and menacing. As the
thunder broke out at shorter intervals,
Edwards rose and joined Alice, who was
looking anxiously at the approach of the
storm, whose foot-falls shook the earth. A
shadow already lay across the prairie,
deepening swiftly.
On came the wind-driven mass, preceded
by a colossal dust-colored roll of vapor,
which stretched like a looped scarf from
east to west across the blue-black cloud
behind. It tumbled and twisted as it came,
trailing a dense shadow, and the lightning
flamed in branching streams from it, and
dust and leaves caught up from the plain
JASON EDWARDS. 167
beneath kept pace with it. Yet it was per
fectly breathless where the watchers stood.
An ominous hush, hot and full of growing
gray shadow.
"Oh, father, see!" said Alice, pointing.
A vast swirl had appeared in the clouds
beneath the scarf-like wind-wrack, a vortex
from which shone a greenish light. This
light grew till it looked like a gigantic sin
ister eye. An instant more, and a long, sil
very-white veil seemed to drop from it, and
spreading as it fell, trailed along the earth.
Alice was fascinated with the majesty of
the scene the wide plain, the boom of
thunder, the rolling and spreading of the
clouds, and the dazzling lightning's spang
ling thrust. But Edwards, with a darken
ing face and closed lip, gazed only at the
marvelous beauty of that strange veil that
streamed down from the cloud. It came
drifting along the plain with incredible
speed, shimmering like snow. A hissing,
roaring sound now grew upon the ear, the
wheat was trampled by the coming storm.
Edwards comprehended it now he turned
to his family, and cried hoarsely
168 JASON EDWARDS.
" In with yeh !
Mrs. Edwards and Linnie huddled in the
doorway, waiting for Alice and her father.
Edwards, with set and sullen face, made
livid by the lightning's glare, lifted his
hand, and half groaned, half imprecated
"Hail! by the livin' God ! "
The next moment, before he could turn
to Alice, the storm-wind rushed upon them,
carrying away the roof of the kitchen and
dashing out every window, filling the room
with floods of water and rebounding
hailstones. In the deafening, distracting
tumult, Linnie and her mother saw
Edwards put his hand to his head and sink
slowly to the ground, with Alice clinging
to him.
JASON EDWARDS. 169
V.
ALICE never could tell just how she
dragged her father into the house,
out she must have done it alone, for her
mother and Linnie were confused and weak
with fear. Somehow, in the midst of that
horrible crackling roar, in the midst of the
incessant glare of the lightning, while the
wind and hail dashed out the window-
panes and flooded the floor with water, she
dragged the unconscious man across the sill
and closed the door.
It seemed hours to her as she sat there
drenched and white, looking down at the
gray head dabbled in the water, as if it
were blood, while she rubbed the cold hands
and temples.
The wind tore through the house, strip
ping the curtains from the windows, and
170 JASON EDWARDS.
the pictures and little ornaments from the
walls, littering the floor with broken glass.
It seemed as if the roof would be torn from
their heads, and all be left naked to the
storm. Mrs. Edwards and Linnie cowered,
stunned and helpless, in the corner, while
the water flooded the room, and hail
stormed on the roof.
She could hear the sobbing of the half-
crazed child on the bed, the dim, gray light
lit by flashes of blue flame, showed her
Mrs. Edwards with Linnie in her arms,
staring wildly at the open window. She
seemed dumb with the stress of her horror.
Alice was alone with her father, who
seemed to be dying, or dead.
At last the roar changed its key; from
being sharp, harsh, it sank to a deeper,
softer note, as the hail gave place to rain,
and then for a quarter of an hour the rain
fell so fast the air was a solid cataract of
water. In turn, this died out, and the
thunder went bellowing off to the East.
"Mother Linnie the storm is over."
Alice shook her mother by the shoulder, as
if she were asleep.
JASON EDWARDS. 171
"Oh, he's dead I know he is," she said,
in utter depth of passionless despair.
"No, he isn't. Linnie, you must run to
Mr. Elliot's, quick."
She roused Linnie and started her out
into the slackening drizzle, but Mrs.
Edwards was of no use to her. She still
sat in that dazed and helpless way, gazing
at the desolation around her. Edwards
lay in a sort of coma, breathing heavily,
but curiously like sleep.
' The sky lightened. In the west a cres
cent of sky, flaming as burnished copper,
told of a fair sky beyond. Its light
seemed a bitter mockery to the girl,
kneeling beside her father in a desolated
home.
In thirty minutes the storm was over,
and the chickens were paddling about in
the pools of water here and there in the
hollows, and caw-cawing gaily. The plain
looked deliciously cool and moist, the lark's
clear piping was heard in a kind of thanks
giving note, and only a practised eye could
see the terrible effect of the hailstorm on
the wheat.
172 JASON EDWARDS.
Where it had stood tall and yellow and
hot an hour ago, it now lay broken, beaten
to the ground, wet, tangled and twisted
into knots. It was mangled beyond any
possible recovery; escaping the drouth, it
was now trampled into the muddy earth.
JASON EDWARDS. 173
VI.
REEVES rode away across the prairie in
a turmoil of anger and sorrow. He
felt wronged and cheated. He drove furi
ously toward the town, intending to take
the train, but as he rode he thought, and
thinking, softened. That sweet face, the
haunting pathos of those work-calloused
hands, those sad eyes, came over him, mak
ing him shudder and groan.
The team fell into a walk, his head sank
low as he went over the whole matter.
Over him the wide blue clouds rose unseen,
and far-off lightning flashed silently along
the vast blue-black mass of vapor in the
west. He saw nothing outside. He was
going over the interview.
How pitiful it all seemed now ! He had
12
174 JASON EDWARDS.
gone to her with such expectation of suc
cess. She loved him so, she could not con
ceal that, and yet her duty to her father
and sister were insuperable barriers. His
joy and buoyancy of greeting had a ter^
rible mockery now, as he remembered
them.
He thought of his own father, a hard
working carpenter. Would he have gone
to live on his son-in-law as long as he had
an arm to swing or a leg to stalk about
on ? No ! He saw clearly now the feeling
of Edwards, who still hoped against hope;
his soldierly pride not permitting him to
go to the hospital or acknowledge defeat.
He was roused by a peal of thunder, and
turning, saw that terrible vortex of clouds
moving down upon him. With a sudden
determination, he turned his horses and
drove rapidly back toward the Edwards
claim. He must see her and ask her for
giveness for his anger, and yes, promise
to give up his Boston life for her life.
"Anything, anything for her!" he said.
But the storm drove him into Elliott's
yard, and as he turned into an open shed
JASON EDWARDS. 175
and hitched his team, Frank Graham came
dashing out of the house.
"Git inside, quick! It's goin' to rain
an' blow great shakes ! "
As they ran to the house, they saw
Elliott putting boards up before the
windows.
"What's that for?" asked Reeves.
Hail," said Frank briefly. See ? " He
pointed out of the door at the back, and as
Reeves looked, the dash of hail crashed
on the roof, and for the next twenty min
utes conversation was impossible.
Mrs. Elliott, a tall woman with a thin,
melancholy face, moved about in the dark
ness, lighting a lamp. Elliott laughed
silently or at least, his laugh was not
heard. The judge smoked calmly, Frank
and Reeves stood at the eastern window,
looking out at the cataract of water and
the leaping hail.
Elliott came up at last, and shouted in
the ear of Frank, "This knocks the wheat
galley west," and carried it off as if it were
all a great joke. As they all stood there,
a box, barrels and a tin boiler, together
176 JASON EDWARDS.
with pieces of boards and other light arti
cles, were carried by, and disappeared in
the gray flood.
Occasionally a lightning flash laid the
ground bare to the sight, the grass show
ing flat as if rolled, the water drifting
before the wind, the leaping globes of ice
forming a terrifying vista to be lost a
moment later in the gray gloom.
At last, as the rain began to cease and
the roar of the hail to die out, Elliott
said
"If this don't lay some o' these shanties
out flatter 'n a hoe-cake, I miss my guess."
"Is there any danger to Edwards'
house?" Eeeves asked anxiously.
"No, I guess not. It's built pretty solid.
Still, you can't tell, these cyclones are so
damned curious. I've seen a house blowed
clear out o' sight, and a hay-stack right
near by scarcely touched. There! I can
see the house now. It's all right, as far as
I can see. Looks 's if the winders was out,
that's all. If they didn't put something
up before 'm, they are, you can bet high
on that."
JASON EDWARDS. Ill
Reeves was now so uneasy that he paced
the room, waiting for the rain to cease.
His fears grew. It seemed so brutal in
him to have left Alice at such a time, and
he was ready to reproach himself with
criminal neglect.
"There's somebody comin' down the
road looks like a girl," said Elliott at
the window.
"It is a girl," said Frank. "It's Linnie
running like a deer. Something's up, sure's
shootin'."
He rushed out into the road. The rain
had nearly ceased, and the girl could be
plainly seen.
"Here, Reeves, jump in! We'll meet
her!"
" I'm with you," said Reeves, seizing the
horses by the heads and backing them out
of the shed. By the time they had wheeled
them into the road Linnie, white, breath
less, horrified, came flying into the yard.
"Oh, come quick! The house is blown
down and poppa's killed. Get the doctor,
quick!"
"Judge, bring the doctor," said Frank,
178 JASON EDWARDS.
feeling the complete truth of the story told
by Linnie's face.
"Git in here," he called to the girl.
Reeves reached down and drew her in, and
in an instant they had whirled into the
road, driving at a tearing run toward the
shanty a mile away.
Linnie lay in Reeves' arms, too exhausted
to speak, her bright eyes turned now on
the flying horses, and now on the face of
the driver.
"Is Alice hurt?"
"No she's all right it's poppa."
"The house seems to be standing," Frank
said.
"It's the other part the windows are
all out," Linnie answered.
"See that grain," said Frank, nodding
his head over his shoulder. "Look's like
a crop, don't it ? A few more like that '11
raise a crop o' suicides."
As they dashed up to the door of the
upright, they saw the yard littered with
fragments of straw, shavings, boards, fur
niture, and through the door Reeves saw
Alice bending over her father.
JASON EDWARDS. 179
She uttered a word of joy as she saw
him. Then, as she looked around the room
and back to the prostrate figure before her,
she said with a terrible bitterness
"See what God has done!"
Reeves lifted the senseless old man to a
place on the bed, and fell to chafing his
hands and feet.
"He can't stay here the bed is wet.
The stove is filled with water, an' pipe
blown down," said Frank. " There ain't any
room for him at Elliott's. There's nothing
to do but take him down to my house.
Wrap him in warm, dry quilts."
"Help me get his wet clothes off," said
Reeves. "Alice, are there any dry clothes
in the house?"
As they worked, they discussed the best
thing to do. Mrs. Edwards had recovered
a little, but still wore a dull and dazed
look, and offered little help. Elliott came
rushing over, and offered his house, of
course, but Reeves said
"If he must be moved a mile, we may
as well take him to Graham's. We'll
meet the doctor quicker."
180 JASON EDWARDS.
"He may die on the way/' Alice cried
in an agony of fear.
"I don't think so. His pulse is slow,
but regular. It's a sort of coma I've
seen something like it before. I don't
think it is dangerous."
The sun was just setting, as Reeves and
Alice drove slowly off down the road, hav
ing in the open carriage the death-like
presence of Jason Edwards. Alice sat
beside her father, watching for signs of
life, fearing each moment to see the shadow
of death on the rigid face.
That ride they will never forget. The
deadly white face of the wronged and
cheated man looking toward the sky the
poor, lax hands falling empty the glory
of the sunset, the piping of the cheerful
lark, the trill of the cricket, and the smell
of the moist and tangled wheat.
Then came the curious faces of the neigh
bors, the falling dusk of evening, and the
flower-like stars opening in the solemnity
of the windless sky. Then came the light
of the town into view, and the journey was
nearly done, and the two young spirits in
JASON EDWARDS. 181
the stress of this terrible moment, gazing
at each other, had small need of words.
They seemed able to read each other's souls.
There was reliance, trust in her eyes, and
comfort in his presence, and strength and
forbearance in the eyes of Reeves.
Once he lifted one of the empty hands,
so calloused and cracked and lumpish with
toil.
" Poor hands," he said, and for the first
time since the coming of the storm, the
girl wept freely. Once she asked him how
he came to be so near, and he told her, and
said, "I was coming back to ask forgive
ness for my brutal anger."
She shook her head and looked down at
the silent figure stretched on the blankets.
It was a sort of unfaithfulness to think of
anything else now, and he perceived it.
When kind hands lifted the weight of
her father from her knees, she was numb
with the cramping position, and sick with
an indefinable loathing and despair. She
tottered unsteadily on her feet, and Reeves
took her in his arms and helped her into
the house. Mrs. Graham, with an infinite
182 JASON EDWARDS.
compassion on her beautiful, matronly face,
received her on her bosom. Strong as she
was, she had nearly reached the limit of
her strength.
The sun came up next morning on a
cool, sweet landscape, but night and morn
ing were alike to Jason Edwards, lying
there on the bed charity had extended to
him. The sky was cloudless. A gentle
wind stirred from the infinite fresh spaces
of the west; under the window in the wet
and tangled sunflowers crickets and cicadas
were singing.
Sitting by his side, Reeves felt again the
force of Nature's forgetfulness of man.
She neither loves nor hates. Her storms
have no regard for life. Her smiling
calms do not recognize death. Sometimes
her storms coincide with death, sometimes
her calms run parallel to men's desires.
She knows not, and cares nothing.
JASON EDWARDS. 183
VII.
BOOMTOWN was full of teams the next
morning by ten o'clock. Men from
the South and North and East and West
hitched up and drove into town to compare
notes and see how matters stood. The
Wamburger grocery was full of brown and
grizzled farmers, swearing or laughing,
according to their temperaments. Judge
Balser's office was also full of men who
had come in to get appraisements on the
damage to their crops, the judge being an
agent of an insurance company.
Out by Larson's blacksmith shop, on
Sheridan Avenue, there was a crowd of
men pitching " quates " . Elliott was there,
and Frank Graham, and Tonguey Thomp
son, who usually acted as judge of the
game, and Hank Whiting, and two or
three more, including Larson, the black-
184 JASON EDWARDS.
smith, who hammered but fitfully on his
anvil, the game being so exciting.
The game was proceeding. For quoits,
they used horse-shoes, and for pegs, teeth
from an old harrow. Elliott was stripped
to his shirt, and his shirt was open at the
neck, and so far as could be discovered, he
had no thought save to win the game and
get the treat on the other fellow.
"How's Edwards this mornin'?" two or
three inquired, as Frank joined them.
Johnson came along the street with a
sickle on his shoulder, and after watching
the game a moment, left the sickle inside
the shop and went up to his old antagonist,
Euble, who was seated on a soap-box at the
corner of the shop. Johnson was in a bad
mood. He gave Kuble a blow on the back
that nearly knocked him down.
"Ain't yeh got nothin' to do but this?"
"No, I hain't/' said Ruble, in rising rage.
"Well, yeh might pray f'r a wind to
h'ist the grain. Some fields look as if a
herd of elephunts had summered into 'em."
Elliott and Frank Graham were having
a scuffle, and the crowd was laughing
JASON EDWARDS. 185
so heartily that Johnson was forced to
raise his voice. The judge stood placidly
smoking.
"Old Jason Edwards' grain is worse 'n
mine jest pounded clean out o' sight an'
sound. Yeh couldn't raise it with Gabri
el's trumpet."
"Can't lay this to the administration, or
taxation or anything, can yeh?"
"I'll bet I can. If we hadn't give away
s' much land to the railroad an' let land-
sharks gobble it up, an' if we'd taxed 'em
as we ought to, we wouldn't be crowded
way out here where it can't rain without
blowing hard enough to tear the ears off
a cast-iron bull-dog"
"At it again," said Frank, pointing at
Johnson, who was gesticulating violently.
" Why don't you old seeds quit quarrel-
in an' go to fightin' ?"
"I'm goin' to git out o' this God-for
saken country," said Johnson, bitterly,
going off up the street.
"Oh, no, you won't," laughed Frank.
"You'll be braggin' about the climate in
less 'n two days I know yeh."
186 JASON EDWARDS.
Reeves was studying them, and thinking
of the difference between their laughter and
apparent freedom from care, and the ques
tion of life and death which was being
worked out in the silent room he had just
left.
"How'd you leave him?" asked Frank,
coming over to Reeves.
"Not much change doctor don't seem
to know what to do. If he don't change
for the better soon, I shall telegraph to St.
Paul for a physician. By the way, this
scene is a study to me. I can't realize that
the land was swept last night by a terrible
storm, to see these fellows out here, cheer
ful as crickets. So goes the world com
edy and tragedy side by side."
"Oh, they'd take anything so I mean
these fellers. They's always a set of these
lahees, myself included, who'd laugh if
their mother-in-law died."
Reeves looked out on the glorious land
scape, retaining still much of its morning
freshness the sky just specked with bits
of impalpable white vapor.
"Your climate is so sinister in its beauty,
JASON EDWARDS. 187
so delusive, I can't realize what has been
done. The horror of last night is like an
exaggeration of a dream. There is no
receding swell this morning, as there would
be on the ocean, to hint of the storm just
passed."
"I guess Alice Edwards ain't likely to
forget it right away."
Reeves turned and put his hand on
Frank's shoulder
" It's due to you that they have a quiet
room and careful"
" Oh, drop that! that's nothin'."
"I guess the old man's work is about
done," said Reeves, after a pause, during
which Elliott led the crowd into the Oatbin
saloon.
"It isn't the thing to be altogether sorry
for, either. I don't suppose he ever knew
freedom from care few of us do. Our
whole infernal civilization is a struggle. We
are like hunters climbing a perpendicular
cliff, a bottomless gulf below, clinging
wildly to tiny roots and crevices, and toil
ing upward, eyes fixed on the green and
alluring slopes above. We strain and
188 JASON EDWARDS.
strive, now slipping, now gaining, while
our hair whitens with the agony of our
aching, failing muscles. One by one we
give up and fall with curse or groan, but
the others keep on, not daring to look
down. There is no rest from the fear of
fall, save in the black depths below.
Graham, the most of us will never know
what rest is. It makes me savage to think
of men like Edwards toiling all their lives
to die at sixty, unrewarded and unsatisfied."
Frank was powerfully moved, and his
reply was as characteristic as it was full
of meaning.
" Knocks an eye out of the American
eagle, don't it?"
" Fine morning, after the shower," put
in the judge, sauntering forward.
" Call it a shower, do you ? "
" Oh, yes. A little severe, of course
grain blown down a little here and there.
Every State in the Union liable to such.
Damage merely nominal wind'll lift it
during the day."
" The judge has just the same tone, you
see, that these reports of the prosperity of
JASON EDWARDS. 189
the West have when issued by land-hold
ers and mortgage companies," commented
Frank. " They issued one last week, deny
ing the poverty of the country; but I
noticed it was signed by men who had
land to rent or sell bankers or mortgage
companies."
" We've noticed that/' Reeves said.
" I'll tell yeh one thing the wind won't
lift, Judge, and that's the mortgage you
hold on Jason Edwards and the rest of 'em."
"Gents, come in an' take something"
roared Elliott from the side door of the
saloon.
"Don't care if I do lemonade," said
the judge, glad of the diversion.
Elliott turned his head and spoke to the
bar-keeper within. "Mix one o' the
judge's lemonades. Come in, Frank
to-day won't count. Come in, Mr. Reeves."
"Every day counts with me," said
Frank. "If you want to shorten y'r life
ten years, go ahead. Life ain't so cheap
as that with me."
"Well, I must go back to the house an*
see how Edwards is."
18
190 JASON EDWARDS.
"Ain't it singular the way Mrs. Edwards
goes on sort of dazed?"
"Well, as I look at it Mrs. Edwards, like
Macbeth, has supped full of horrors. I
don't suppose anything could bring an out
cry from her. It's terrible to me to see
her go about in that numb way. Graham,
I almost fear for Alice's reason. Her life
out here has made terrible havoc in her
girlhood."
What he would have said more was
stopped by the return of the crowd, led
by Elliott and the judge. Elliott was talk
ing very earnestly.
The crowd burst into wild laughter. In
the midst of it Johnson returned from
up the street. His face was full of a
strange emotion. He silenced them with
a stern gesture
"Say! You fellers are awful chipper
but just look there ! "
They all looked where he pointed. Two
men were bringing a third man down the
walk, holding him lightly by the elbows.
Behind them came a woman with a baby
in her arms and a little one toddling at
JASON EDWARDS. 191
her side. One of the men was Major Mul-
lins, a tall and dignified man, with flowing
whiskers and clear brown eyes, now sad
and thoughtful.
"There goes Charley Severson," John
son went on in the same bitter voice.
"One o' the best fellers in the country,
on his way to the train to go to the insane
asylum a ravin' maniac. He couldn't
stand t%e strain. He's rich now!"
A hush fell on the crowd that was pain
ful. Tears started to Keeves' eyes as he
looked into the desolate face of the Nor
wegian girl. The little one at her side
clung to her skirts, and avoided the eye
like a young partridge. But the man was
happy at last. His care was over. He
was laughing and talking, his eyes roving
about he knew no one. He tugged at
the major's arm, and turned toward the
silent group of men the major humored
him.
"Hallo, fallars! Yo' gat mae latter?
Ay gaet ten tousant dollars ay sail mae
horses on Yimtown. Ay gat plows ay
go'n sail plows hundert tousant dollar.
192 JASON EDWARDS.
Ay dam reich, yo' bait yo' ! Ay go Chicago.
Ay buy more horses ay gaet money"
"Come, Charley/' said the major, soft as
velvet. "Come, it's time"
He turned suddenly, a wild glare in his
eyes.
"Who yo* baen, anyhow? Ay not go
vit yo', ay bait ! "
"We must go to Chicago after those
horses, Charley."
The maniac hesitated a moment.
"All right ay go. Ay gaet more
horses ay sail 'em, make beeg money"
With the incessant talk of money, they
lured him on toward the station. Here
was something which surpassed quoits in
interest.
It was pitiful, tragic to see the wife and
mother stand with her little ones about
her, seeking her husband's eye, and finding
only a swift, unrecognizing glare. The
chubby little flaxen-haired baby seemed
somehow to divine that it must not speak
to its father, and it stood silent.
Several kind women and neighbors sur
rounded the wife and tried to comfort her,
JASON EDWARDS. 193
but there was no comfort. She stood
dumb, wordless, with blank face of infin
ite despair and suffering. She refused to
yield her infants, shook her head slowly,
and kept her eyes upon the restless man
who paced up and down the board walk,
pouring out disconnected accounts of imag
inary investments which had made him a
millionaire.
He was apparently perfectly happy. He
laughed easily. His fine face was a little
flushed. He walked with a grace and ease
that would have been attractive, if it were
not for the wildness of his eyes.
"A product of our civilization," said
Beeves, as the train drew up, and the man
was coaxed and pushed into it.
" Sharley ! " wailed the woman, speaking
for the first time. He turned at her voice,
but did not know her. She extended the
baby toward him, as if hoping that might
reach him. "Sharley!"
The man laughed and went on, and the
train rolled away.
"What is civilization with all its glory
and grandeur of invention worth to that
J94 JASON EDWARDS.
woman?" asked Reeves, when he could
speak.
"Nothing," replied Frank, and they
walked in silence, a terrible indignation
in the constriction of their throats. There
were half a dozen loafers around the black
smith shop, pitching quoits, and the black
smith was whistling while he hammered
on Johnson's sickle.
JASON EDWARDS. 195
VIII.
TASON EDWARDS could hardly be said
*J to have awakened from that strange,
baffling sleep till the second morning after
the storm, though Reeves, who watched
with him the first and second nights as
well, said he stirred and opened his eyes
twice, but apparently without seeing or
realizing anything.
When the cool dawn of the second
morning came, Reeves, weary with watch
ing, went to the window and gazed afar
out on the beautiful plain. He could hear
the clanging of the engine-bells further
down town, and the clatter of 'busses as
they took early passengers down to the
St. Paul train. The air was marvel-
ously clear, and the sky was cloudless,
save the bands of smoke from engines or
chimneys. It was only by an effort, or
196 JASON EDWARDS.
by a glance at the old man lying deathly
still, that he could persuade himself of the
reality of that storm.
He was still standing there, thinking it
all over for the twentieth time, when
Frank Graham came in, and motioned to
him to come out into the sitting-room
adjoining.
"Now, I'll stay here while you go out
and catch a snack. I'll give you a
pointer go to the restaurant at the cor
ner down this street and get a cup of coffee
to kind o' keep you steady, and I'll have
breakfast ready by six-thirty. But don't
let anyone hear us my wife ain't just up
on coffee see? And they are down there.
The walk'll do you good. Then come back,
eat a beefsteak and go to bed."
Reeves was glad to get out into the
inexpressibly sweet and peaceful morning.
To look up at the sky which no storm can
permanently impress, and hear the cheer
ful voices of nature's never-complaining
children, after a night of gloomy philoso
phizing, was sweet as sleep.
Frank, left alone, peeped in at the silent
JASON EDWARDS. 197
figure, drew a morning paper from his
pocket, and sank into one of the gaily
upholstered chairs. The room was cheer
ful in a determined sort of way. A
chromo or two on the wall, bright-colored
carpet, organ of an ambitious pattern,
centre-table supporting the family Bible,
and a basket of stereopticon views on a
bright-colored tidy. It was prosperous and
American in its entire appearance. Frank
took a pride in it from the fact that his
wife did the planning mainly.
He looked up at hearing the door open,
and Alice, pale but resolute and self-con
tained, entered.
" Good morning, Mr. Graham. Did you
is he still sleeping?"
"He's layin' there perfectly still, and
seems to be comfortable."
Alice went into the bedroom and bent
above her father's bed, and kissed him
softly on the hair.
"Did you see the doctor when he was
here last night?" she asked, returning and
closing the door. "What did he say?"
"Not much of anything; pinched his
198 JASON EDWARDS.
chin and looked wise. I take it he's in no
present danger. Sort of nervous prostra
tion very fashionable just now."
"When did Walter go away?"
" Just now."
"Why, he promised to call you and be
relieved at midnight."
"Well, he didn't he stayed here all
night. Just gone out to catch a cup o'
coffee. Be back soon."
Alice was going back into the other
room, as she stopped and said, "Did he
look tired?"
"Well, yes he looked ugly as a bear
with a sore ear in fly-time. Now, let me
.advise you," he said, rising, significantly.
"Whatever plan he makes, you carry out
see?"
"What do you mean?"
"Just what I say," said Frank, mysteri
ously, as he went out.
Alice was busied, moving about with a
cloth and brush, silently removing the dis
order of the night, when Eeeves re-entered,
and stood looking at her for a little time.
She was so wifely in her whole air, so
JASON EDWARDS. 199
sweet and strong, his heart went out to her
as never before, and yet, because she was
strong and sweet, he knew how difficult it
would be to bring her to accept his plans.
She turned and saw him, and her face
lighted into a sort of sad smile that did not
reach the lips, but she came into the little
parlor and closed the door. " Oh, Walter,
how good how generous you are!"
"Nothing of the kind, I assure you/'
answered Reeves, as he seized her out
stretched hand. "I'm selfish as a lover.
We're all egoists at bottom, even in our
sacrifices I'm no exception."
"Do you think he will live?" she cried
eagerly, ignoring his deeper meaning.
" I do."
"Oh, what a load that lifts from my
heart! I've found out how you obey my
orders. Oh, what a dreadful two days this
has been!"
"What a dreadful four years this has
been!" Eeeves replied, meaningly.
"What would we have done without
you?" she said, and her voice quivered.
"What will I do without my girl?
200 JASON EDWARDS.
Alice my sweetheart! Are you satis
fied? Will you give up the struggle?"
He drew her to him, but she remained with
eyes downcast in thought. He went on
tenderly
"It has been a hopeless struggle from
the first. I offer help and a home you
are helpless and homeless. Will you
refuse it again?"
"My first duty is to my parents," said
Alice evasively, still undecided. " Think
of the unutterable tragedy of their lives ! "
"Don't evade me," he persisted firmly.
"You sha'n't evade me. Will you take my
help and my home? Don't look away
look at me! Are you ready to come to
me you and yours?"
Alice stood for a moment silent, her
pride and resolution giving way. She
turned to him
"If I am worth so much."
"So much! You're worth acres of dia
monds!" he caught her face between his
hands and kissed it.
She smiled a little "You say so now."
"And I say so ever/' he went on in
JASON EDWARDS. 201
triumphant strain. "Now let Rome in
Tiber melt, and the wide-arched empire
what's the rest of it? Ah, Alice, what
a tragedy had been had I married one of
those other Boston girls during these
years."
" I was afraid you would/' she said smil
ing a little. "I couldn't blame you I
had no claim on you."
Reeves gave a profound and expressive
sigh. "All that saved me was the tradi
tional constitution of the masculine heart.
The more I couldn't get you the more I
wanted you it's the way."
" According to that reasoning, I've done
wrong to promise anything now."
"That's a <non sequitor'," he replied
quickly. " You're mine now."
Yes but"
"But me no buts I won't stand it!"
"But father is so inflexible; he hates
charity so, he may not consent."
"Trust the whole matter to me. I'll
come in here as a sort of special prov
idence nothing flatters a man more than
to be a sort of lieutenant to God. I've
202 JASON EDWARDS.
been waiting for the chance for years."
He softened, as he thought of it. "Ah,
Alice, what happy years we've wasted,
just on account of his pride and your
willfulness."
"It was not willfulness it was"
"I'll retract I'll retract!" he cried
hastily. "It was heroism, only forget it
now. Let the hand of labor swell and the
weary head bow let the wind lay hard
on the icy plain, and the hail of summer
trample the wheat let the rush of trade
go on in its granite grooves you are out
of the press. My dearest, my life's work
is to keep you safe from sorrow,,"
Alice was sad again. Her eyes were
deeply thoughtful, the rising sun moving
to the southward threw a square of light
upon her head, bringing out the grave,
strong lines of her face. When she spoke,
she stood for the modern woman who
wishes to do, whose individuality is too
high to enable her to tamely submit to
social limitation.
"I am out of the press, but not by my
own merits." He started to speak
JASON EDWARDS. 203
" Hush ! You know what I mean. I hate
charity, and after all, I'm saved by a sort
of charity. I'll try to be patient, but the
problem is not solved for us it's only put
off."
204 JASON EDWAEDS.
IX.
THEY were all looking down at him
when Jason Edwards opened his eyes,
clear and quiet. Alice and her mother
fell on their knees beside the bed in a
transport of relief. Eeeves stood looking
at them all. Linnie alone was wanting to
make up the group. She, silenced by
Reeves' finger, stood in the door poised,
waiting.
Edwards moved his lips painfully before
speaking in a husky, monotonous tone
"Is the storm passed off?"
"All quiet and beautiful, Jason."
He looked around, put one hand feebly
up to Alice's face "Where's my baby ?"
"Here I be, poppa," cried Linnie, bound
ing forward, and almost leaping upon the
bed, where she snuggled down beside him.
His eyes rested on Reeves again.
" How d' do, Mr. Reeves ? I didn't know
JASON EDWARDS. 205
yell." He was puzzled at the room. "This
ain't Boston?"
" This is Frank Graham's house," replied
Alice. Edwards seemed now to recollect,
and his face darkened.
"Then our house was bio wed down?"
"Yes, father the shed was carried
away and all the windows broken."
"An* the wheat cut to pieces?"
"Yes, Jason worse 'n you can think."
His face grew bitter, and after a long
pause, he said, "Then I may jest as well
die. It ain't no use I can't never git up
with all them mortgages"
"Oh, Jason, Jason!" pleaded his wife.
"Have courage for our sakes, father,"
said Alice.
" I'd only be a burden to you instead of
a blessin'," the steady voice went on. "I'm
old old! So old I don't feel like m'self
an' it was all tramped down?" he said
to Reeves, with a rising reflection.
"All destroyed. The center of the
storm"
"Of course," broke in the despairing,
infinitely-bitter voice. " God and man has
14
206 JASON EDWARDS.
joined hands to break me down." He
went on after a pause, speaking in a slow
monotone. "They drove me out o' Deny,
an' they drove me out o' Boston, an' they'll
drive me out o' here. They ain't but one
place left jest one little spot made an'
pervided fr such as me an' that's the
grave. An' they'd crowd me out o' that
if they could but they can't. They ain't
no landlords in the grave."
All were weeping, Alice was stroking
his hair, Linnie sobbing by his side. Mrs.
Edwards rose hastily.
" I'll go an* get yeh some tea, Jason
that'll hearten you up some." As she
went out, Alice said
" Linnie, run and get an extra pillow to
prop him up. I'll get some water." As
they went out, Edwards said, "I guess I'll
try to set up."
Reeves stepped forward to assist him,
when he was stopped by the look of fear
and horror on the old man's face. He was
looking down toward his feet, and had the
appearance of a man struggling to extricate
himself from a trap.
JASON EDWARDS. 207
"My God!" he whispered hoarsely, as
the truth came to him. 6 I can't move my
feet I'm paralyzed ! "
"No, no! Not that! It's only tempo
rary it's caused by lying still"
The old sufferer silenced him with a
look the women were returning "Don't
tell them," he commanded, and fell back
upon his pillow.
This terrible visitation, seemingly so
mysterious and malignant, was very natu
ral and might have been inferred. A small
blood vessel had been ruptured in the
brain, and a clot had formed, resting upon
that part of the brain controlling the feet.
It might be finally absorbed it might
extend until it affected the whole of
one side of the body. The whole out-come
was problematical.
Reeves could have wept every time he
met the eyes of the old man, as the women
moved about him. He seemed to be afraid
that they would find out this last great
blow. He said little, and at last grew
drowsy and slept. Reeves was also think
ing, and as he went with Frank for a spin
208 JASON EDWARDS.
in the open air, he could not shake off the
feeling that he had been in the presence of
a typical American tragedy the collapse
of a working man.
The common fate of the majority of
American farmers and mechanics dying
before their time. Going to pieces at
forty, fifty or sixty years of age, from
under-pay and over-work. "Yes, Edwards
is a type," he concluded with Graham.
The next day, as Jason was sitting in
his easy chair, with Linnie by his side, and
Alice moving about the room, Reeves
entered. The old toiler, a mere hulk of his
once magnificent manhood, looked at him
steadily and unsmilingly, and said slowly,
as Reeves came to his side and stood
silently waiting
"You've been a good friend to us all,
young man you've been patient you'll
never git y'r pay fr it."
Reeves put out his arm and stopped
Alice, as she was passing.
"Yes, I will here."
"I don't like to pay yeh that way," said
Edwards, steadily.
JASON EDWARDS. 209
" Why not * "
u Because it ain't right I don't like to
pay my debts that way I don't like to
sell my girl so cheap."
" Father ! " exclaimed Alice.
Reeves checked her. " I understand him
- it is cheap."
" It hurts me, but it's got to be done,"
the father went on. "I've got through.
If I could jest kind o' crawl back to the old
town where I could see a green hill once
more, an' hear the sound o' the river, I'd
kind o' die easier some way."
" Listen to me a moment," broke in
Reeves eagerly. " I'm going to take
things into my own hands now. I'm
going to take you all to the East. I've
got an empty house standing back there,
and from this time forward, my home is
your home. You needn't worry about
your future only enjoy "
Edwards stopped him with a gesture.
He was broken, but not subdued. The
pride rose in him yet the pride of an
American who will never surrender his
freedom while he lives.
210 JASON EDWARDS.
" Hold on, young man ! I'm sixty years
of age. For fifty years I've traveled, an'
I've always paid my way, up to this day.
I've earned every dollar I ever had with
these hands" he held up his trembling,
crooked fingers. "I never was beholden
to any man for a meal o' vittles, an' I
wouldn't be now, if I was alone."
He lay silent for a moment, his face
working, the tears running down his
wrinkled face.
"I'm a failure but don't talk to me of
en joy in' a pauper!"
Alice leaped up. " You're not a pauper ! "
" He's a hero ! " exclaimed Reeves, with
kindling eyes. "He has fought heroically.
No battle can test the courage of a man so
much as this endless struggle against the
injustice of the world this silent, cease
less war against hunger and cold." He
bent over Jason now, and his voice was
indescribably winning. "I understand. I
know how hard it is for a brave man to go
to the rear. I've heard my father say that
men used to tie up their own wounds and
fight on, streaming with blood, rather than
JASON EDWARDS. 211
be taken to the rear, and that when at last
they fell and the column passed on, they'd
wave their bandaged arms and shout, wav
ing their comrades into the cannon-smoke.
Now to me, you're a soldier fighting a
greater and fiercer battle than the Wilder
ness a battle as wide as the world, in
which women and children fight and die.
You are old and disabled let me carry
you to the rear. Let me take you back to
Derry."
"Yes, father," pleaded Alice, "my cour
age is gone I can't fight alone."
Edwards tried twice before he spoke.
"I surrender. I'm beat." Alice flung her
arms about his neck.
"For your sakes I give up," he went on;
"but it hurts it hurts. I'm like an old
broken scythe ready to be hung up to
rust in the rain. I ain't any use to you
now, Jennie. Young man, here's my
hand. Take her back to Boston, where
she belongs, and take me back to Derry, if
I'm worth so much, an' let me die there.
That's all I ask for myself it ain't much
I can't die out here on this prairie, with
212 JASON EDWARDS.
no trees to be buried under. I feel 's if I
couldn't rest there and rest is the sweet
est thing in the world for a man like me.
I can't afford to lose that."
Beeves stood up, his face beamed. " You
are doing me the favor/' and he quoted
from Shelley
" The world is weary of the past,
The day of justice blooms at last."
But Edwards, with the mist of coming
night in his eyes and the numbness of
death in his limbs, could not thrill to the
young man's enthusiasm. He could only
try to be patient and wait for death
calmly. Life had brought him nothing
death had no terror.
******
When they entered Massachusetts soil,
Jason roused up and asked to be propped
up so that he could look out. The train
was rushing along a brawling stream
between rocky, rounded, wooded hills.
The landscape was as fresh as June with
recent rains, but here and there, amid the
JASON EDWARDS. 213
the greens, was a dash of color that showed
the ripeness of August. The distant hills
stood purple-blue against the red of the
morning sky. The still pools were starred
with lilies, and in their clear, still nooks
reflected the sky and wood with marvelous
clearness.
"How do you feel this morning?" asked
Eeeves cheerily.
Edwards looked across the aisle of the
beautiful car, the sun was streaming across
the heads of his daughters. He did not
feel strong enough to speak, but he smiled.
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" The spirit and method of Kipling's fresh and virile song have taken the English
reading world. . . . When we turn to the larger portion of ' The Seven Seas/ how
imaginative it is, how impassioned, how superbly rhythmic and sonorous ! . . . The
ring and diction of this verse add new elements to our song. . . . The true laureate
of Greater Britain." . C. Stedman, in the Book Buyer.
" The most original poet who has appeared in his generation. . . . His is the lusti
est voice now lifted in the world, the clearest, the bravest, with the fewest false notes
in it. ... I do not see why, in reading his book, we should not put ourselves in the
presence of a great poet again, and consent to put off our mourning for the high ones
lately dead." W. D. Howells.
" The new poems of Mr. Rudyard Kipling have all the spirit and swing of their
predecessors. Throughout they are instinct with the qualities which are essentially
his, and which have made, and seem likely to keep, for him his position and wide
popularity." London Times.
" He has the very heart of movement, for the lack of which no metrical science
eculd atone. He goes far because he can." London Academy.
" ' The Seven Seas ' is the most remarkable book of verse that Mr. Kipling has
given us. Here the human sympathy is broader and deeper, the patriotism heartier
and fuller, the intellectual and spiritual insight keener, the command of the literary
vehicle more complete and sure, than in any previous verse work by the author. The
volume pulses with power power often rough and reckless in expression, but invariably
conveying the effect intended. There is scarcely a line which does not testify to the
strong individuality of the writer." London Globe.
" If a man holding this volume in his hands, with all its extravagance and its savage
realism, is not aware that it is animated through and through with indubitable genius
then he must be too much the slave of the conventional and the ordinary to understand
that Poetry metamorphoses herself in many diverse forms, and that its one sovereign
and indefeasible justification is truth." London Daily Telegraph.
" ' The Seven Seas ' is packed with inspiration, with humor, with pathos, and with
the old unequaled insight into the mind'of the rank and file." London Daily Chronicle.
" Mr. Kipling's ' The Seven Seas ' is a distinct advance upon his characteristic
lines. The surpassing strength, the almost violent originality, the glorious swish and
swing of his lines all are there in increased measure. . . . The book is a marvel of
originality and genius a brand-new landmark in the history of English letters."
Chicago Tribune.
" In ' The Seven Seas ' are displayed all of Kipling's prodigious gifts. . . . Whoever
reads ' The Seven Seas ' will be vexed by the desire to read it again. The average
charm of the gifts alone is irresistible." Boston Journal.
New York : D. APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue.
THE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, SANTA CRUZ
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